True Love's Kiss or Buffy and the 7 Scoobies
by SarahlovesA
Summary: Buffy is in a mystically induced coma and the gang reunite in Italy to save her. But only her true love can wake her up. Who will that be? After 'Chosen'. Updated, especially Ch 9, & new chapters from Ch 10 onwards.
1. Chapter 1

'_**Buffy and the 7 Scoobies**_

_**(well, 3 actually, unless you count Giles, Andrew, Angel and Spike, but they were really Scoobies at heart, weren't they?)'**_

**Or '**_**True Love's Kiss'**_

_**A/N**__**:**__ My first published fanfic EVER! This is set after 'Chosen' because I have not read any of Season 8 as I am not sure I want to go there. At some point I will but I am a little afraid of what Joss has done to the Buffy universe, much as I love him! So some things are definitely AU. I know a little about the canon version of Buffy being in Italy. I am choosing to ignore it. In my story, it IS Buffy there!_

_**Disclaimer**__: Don't own anything though I would like to be Joss Whedon in my next life because he is a genius._

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 1<strong>_

Giles was enjoying the sight of a wintry sunset, where the soft oranges and rosy pinks of the sky were, for once, unconcealed by the habitual grey clouds of a country where rain was an ever-present topic of conversation. He did rather miss the constant sunshine of California. However, he was perfectly happy to put up with excessive precipitation due to the fact that he could view the weather through his own window in the English countryside and he was not, for once, facing an imminent apocalypse. _Yes, that was a splendid thought. _

How marvellous it was to be able to take advantage of the free time he had (due to the unusual inactivity on the part of the forces of evil) to spend some time helping to set up a new Watcher's Council. The coven was involved, as were the few remaining Watchers. After Willow's magnificent spell there were now so many 'Slayers' that there was a crying need for new Watchers. All those girls with Slayer powers were a wonderful gift to the world, but they needed training ... badly. Most of them had no idea what they were capable of, and all that uncontrolled power could be dangerous. The last thing they needed was a rogue Slayer. Images of Faith when she had 'chosen to play for the wrong team' flashed through his mind. He shivered slightly. Yes, he definitely needed to focus on increasing the ranks of the Watchers. Thank the Lord that he had no other pressing issues to deal with.

'Da da da dum.' The dramatic notes of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony suddenly rang out. Xander had, unbeknownst to him, changed the ring tone of his mobile phone (dreadful invention but unfortunately necessary these days) and he had been unable to alter it to something less embarrassingly attention-seeking. Well, he would just deal with this call, and then it would be pleasant to have a spot of tea.

He answered his phone.

It was Willow.

A few minutes later he put the phone down, very carefully, as if it might explode with the force of the news it had carried. The tea, the training, everything; it would all have to wait.

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><p>Buffy was extremely irritated. 'Die,... damn... you! I... need... my... beauty... sleep!' Each word was punctuated by the blows she was landing on the particularly hideous demon she was currently fighting. 'I have a breakfast date with the Immortal tomorrow - I should be home dreaming of that!' But this demon seemed to be tireless; not really powerful but with amazing stamina. Buffy was not exactly worried; after all, what was one demon compared to the hordes of Übervamps she had faced and, anyway, hadn't she done this all a million times before?<p>

Yet the demon, a putridly stinky green scaly thing with way too many teeth and more limbs than you would think any sensible creature would want or use, kept coming at her. Whatever hits she got in, it did not seem to want to give up. 'Right, enough's enough. It takes a lot longer to make my hair look perfect than anyone realises! I need to end this now and go to sleep so I can get up early!'

She looked around hurriedly for something sharp to cut the green and nasty's head off. Funnily enough, as she was in a small park on the outskirts of a large Italian city, surrounded by just trees and flowers, there did not seem to be anything handy.

What had possessed her to come out in the middle of the night and not bring any weapons? But patrolling had not really been on her mind. After being woken up by a weird dream, and unable to get back to sleep, a 3am walk had seemed a good idea. Well, that was also a tad bizarre - she was not exactly hiking girl and a middle of the night assault on the refrigerator would have made more sense. When she went walking, it was usually to thin the ranks of the bad guys, not to admire roses in the moonlight, especially in the winter, when the roses were nothing but thorny twigs.

While wandering around the park, not sure why she had come, she suddenly heard a scream. Sprinting through a small stand of trees, she came across a very strange sight in a park in the middle of a cold winter's night. A little old lady, dressed in black, with a lacy shawl around her shoulders and what looked like a white cap on her head, was backed against a large, leafless tree. In front of her was a demon, who was reaching out to her with its several arms, about to grab her. Buffy launched herself at the demon, yelling to the woman to get out of the way. Even though she spoke in English, the lady seemed to know what she meant and ran off to the side. After that, Buffy forgot about her as she fought with the monster, who was proving to be a pretty tough opponent.

She was getting really exasperated as punch after punch seemed to have no effect on the demon. It whimpered, seemingly in pain, but it kept coming back. It rarely managed to touch Buffy and when it did, the force of the blows was pretty pathetic for a large, seven foot creature from the underworld. _Yet, the bloody thing will not die_. She faltered a little; why did she keep using that word, that 'bloody' English word? Another little reminder of the blond vamp whom her psyche would not let her forget. Damn it, this was so not the time to be thinking of that or him. Either deal with this creature or run away (sorry, make a strategic withdrawal, as Giles would put it), grabbing the old lady on the way. Okay, she really was not concentrating; what the hell was wrong with her?

Well, that was a question she had been asking herself for a while. Here she was in a fabulous country, with a great boyfriend and a life where the burden of being the Slayer was now shared by many others. She actually had a life, for once, where dates and shopping and manicures were allowed. She was helping the Italian Watchers Council and doing some patrolling. In a while she was going to help Giles train some new Slayers. Things were relatively calm and peaceful. She should be over the moon and having the best time, yet...

'_You're bored, pet_' said a little voice in her head. Funny how that faintly mocking voice happened to have a sexy English accent. Why was she still thinking about him, why was he still part of her inner life?

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><p>'Ow!' One of the demon's long, needle-like, dirty brown claws scratched her arm. It was a small mark and hardly bled, but it burned like acid, just for a split second. 'Right, this is ridiculous. Time to get serious. You're going to DIE!'<p>

Buffy turned, ran to the nearest tree and pulled off a low hanging branch. Before the demon could react, she stabbed it through the chest with the sharp end of the wood. For a moment, the monster looked surprised, and then it collapsed, slowly dissolving into a revolting, steaming pile of green goo, some of which touched Buffy's shoe. 'Yuck. That's truly gross, and I've seen a lot of gross things in my time.'

'How can I ever thank you, my dear? You saved my life.' Buffy spun around in shock. She had forgotten that there was someone else there.

The moon was bright and Buffy could see her clearly. The old lady was tiny and looked like an illustration from a children's book of the perfect grandmother. She had snowy white hair under the delicate lacy cap, a smiley face, with rosy apple cheeks and that perfect peaches and cream complexion with tiny little lines, which some old people are lucky enough to have. Her bright green eyes glittered behind a pair of small, silver rimmed glasses. She wore a long black dress, fitted at the waist, with a beautiful black shawl around her shoulders. Yes, a walking grandma doll who spoke perfect English with the merest hint of some kind of European accent.

'It was nothing. I'm glad I was here to help. But why on earth were you out here so late? It seems a dangerous thing to do in a city this size.'

'Well, dear. It was my cat, Lion. He's very naughty and likes to stay out all night but I worry about him in this weather. And you hear strange things about this park. Other people have lost their pets recently and so I was looking for him.'

'That was brave of you, but maybe you should go home now. I'll have a look around and make sure the place is safe. Perhaps I'll find him. Or do you want me to walk you home?'

'Thank you, that would be very kind of you. But you're very strong for such a small girl. How did you manage to defeat that creature? And what was it?'

'I don't know. Best not to worry about that. Let's get you home.'

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><p>And so they made their way out of the park, with the old lady calling out 'Lion, my Evelion, where are you?' every so often, but to no avail. At the other end of the park, they went through a gate and down a thickly wooded path. She and Dawn had walked through this park many times but she had never noticed the ancient wrought iron gate before. That was odd. What was also weird was that there was a nameplate on the gate, 'Briar Rose Villa'. Why was it in English? Well, no point thinking about it now; she really wanted to see the old dear home and then get back to her bed.<p>

After a few minutes they arrived at a tiny but exquisite villa, thickly overgrown with vines and climbing plants. It would be a riot of colour and fragrance in the summer and even now it was stunningly beautiful. They went down a short path made of worn flagstones to the ornately carved front door. The old lady pulled out a fantastically shaped iron key and let them into the house. Inside, the place was full of moonlight glinting off marble and wood, off gleaming metal and luxurious fabrics. Everything seemed antique and yet in perfect condition. There was a faint smell of lavender and beeswax, with a strange musky note underneath.

'You have a beautiful home.'

'Thank you, dear child. Can I get you something to drink, or would you like to freshen up? You must be exhausted after your fight with that horrible thing. Some tea would be nice.'

Well, the night was getting more and more surreal. _Shouldn't Grandma here be a little more traumatised or curious? _She had just had an encounter with a hideous demon and a small American blonde with super strength. Yet here she was offering refreshments and they were exchanging polite small talk! Buffy had a vision of herself sipping tea out of a fabulously delicate bone china teacup, sitting on a red velvet cushion in a chair that really belonged in a museum, while she was covered in sweat and demon slime.

'That's very kind of you, but I really need to get home. I hope you find your cat.' Buffy turned to leave, but the lady stopped her.

'Just a moment, I want to give you something to say thank you. It's not much but they do come from my own garden.'

She disappeared through a door at the back of the shadowy hall, returning in a minute with a brown paper bag. The most mouth-watering smell was coming from it. Buffy took it, murmuring 'Thank you' and went out of the front door.

As she got to the gate she turned. The old lady was at the front door waving to her with a white frothy something, a handkerchief probably, in her hand. The moonlight was reflected in her spectacles, making her eyes glitter like some large insect. Buffy frowned. She was an adorable old dear, so why would the insect image come to mind? 'I really need some sleep'. Buffy started to walk back to the park but something made her pick up her feet and sprint the rest of the way home.

When she got inside the apartment, she decided to have a quick shower to wash the smell of battle off her body. Finally, wrapped in a fluffy robe, in clean pjs, she went to the kitchen. The bag was on the table where she had left it. She sat down and carefully opened it.

Inside was a selection of the most gorgeous looking fruit she had ever seen. From her own garden, the lady had said. How had she managed that in the middle of winter? Plump, juicy grapes, a couple of luscious peaches that looked like an illustration from a magazine, some sunset orange, smooth-skinned apricots and, at the bottom of the bag, the most perfect apple - round, bright red, with blemish-free shiny skin and smelling like heaven. It was the appleist apple she had ever seen. Without thinking, her mouth watering, she sank her teeth into it.

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><p>'Buuuffffffy! Why didn't you wake me up? I am sooooo late. You know Antonia's picking me up at 9 so we can go to that shoe sale! Buffy! Where are you? Dawn came rampaging out of her bedroom. Buffy had promised to wake her early. There was every chance that Antonia's superhot brother Marco would be giving them a ride, and she needed time to make herself look as cute as possible. Anyway, in Italy, jeans, t-shirt and sneakers would not do. All the teenagers looked like something out of a Gap advert and she was not about to look like some hick from the sticks so she needed TIME to get ready. 'Buffy! Where are y...'<p>

Her words died away as she rushed into the kitchen and saw Buffy, slumped at the table, head down. 'What on earth are you doing?' She shook Buffy by the shoulder, with increasing violence as she got no response.

Then she saw Buffy's face. It was as white as snow, as milk, as marble, as anything else that you could think of which is that deadly pale colour, with no hint of pink, no hint of life. Her lips, on the other hand, were bright crimson red, a colour Buffy rarely wore. Dawn felt a tingling in her head, her fingers, her spine. She suddenly whipped round, convinced that there would be something behind her, but the kitchen was empty. Turning back to Buffy, she noticed something else.

Buffy's head was surrounded by decomposing fruit; there were shrivelled up grapes, peaches that had mushy looking patches of decay on them, slimy orangey things that could have been anything and an apple, with a bite taken out of it that showed the rotten brown flesh inside.

What was going on? 'Buffy! Buffy!'

Five minutes later she was panicking. Buffy was still breathing. Dawn had done something she had seen in movies but had not really believed would work - held a small mirror near Buffy's mouth. Amazingly, there had been condensation on the mirror so Dawn had decided that at least Buffy was still alive. But nothing had woken her up - shouting, water on the face, slapping her, tickling her - nothing.

When the doorbell rang, Dawn jumped out of her skin, but then she realised. _Antonia! Please let her dad or mom be with her_; someone to take charge, to be responsible. As she pulled open the door, her heart sank when she only saw her friend. 'Quick, we have to do something!' She pulled her friend inside and dragged her to the kitchen. 'What is this? Is she sleeping? Maybe she is drinking yesterday?' 'No!... I don't know, but I can't wake her up!'

Looking at Antonia's wide-eyed, scared face, Dawn realised that she had to stop behaving like a hysterical teenager and start taking action. After all, she had fought demons, vampires, apocalypses, God knows what else, so she should be able to deal with a catatonic sister. Dawn took a deep breath, pulled her shoulders back and said, 'Right, we need to call a doctor.'

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><p><em><span>Author's note<span>__: Any reviews would be greatly appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer_**_: Don't own anything._

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 2<strong>_

Willow was genuinely frightened, and that was an emotion she thought she had gotten over as she had been through so much in the last few years. What was left that could scare her? She'd survived the death of her best friend, twice; the loss of Tara; the fact that she was a murderer, the end of Sunnydale; the greatest spell that she or almost anyone else had ever cast - what could be scarier than those things? But the sight of Buffy's unnaturally pale, vampire pale in fact, face, with those bright red lips that were the result of no lipstick known to mankind (if you could market that kind of staying power for a lip colour, you'd be a millionaire in about a day. Most women would kill for that) - well, that terrified her.

Because no one, and she meant _no one,_ had a clue what had happened to Buffy. Forget doctors and specialists. All they could say was that it was acoma of unknown origin, and they were playing the wait and see game. Willow wanted to be doing something but all they could do was sit in the hospital, just sit and hope for a sign that Buffy would come back to them. _And, oh God, could they bear to go through that again, any of them? How many times could one person return from what seemed to be death? Even Buffy was not immortal._

What was really scary was that this was no coma, at least, not one caused by normal means. This was supernatural in origin or Willow would renounce magic and go be the lawyer or doctor or accountant her parents had always wanted her to be. She knew the signs and so did Dawn, which was why she had called Willow and asked her to come thousands of miles to Italy. An expert in all things mystical was needed. So Willow had come, leaving Kennedy training slayers back home. 'Don't worry, Dawnie, we'll find out what's wrong with her. She's died twice and she survived that, so a little old coma shouldn't be a problem.' (And if Willow did not really believe that, then how could she comfort Dawn?)

Dawn smiled wanly and went to get some terrible coffee from the machine down the corridor. Even in Italy, hospital coffee tasted like it had been drained from the oil tank of some ancient truck, but she needed the distraction. Things had been going so well. (OK, for her, maybe. She was smart enough to realise that Buffy's 'happiness' was a little put on. They rarely spoke of Sunnydale and that final day, but Dawn knew that part of Buffy had died that day, the part once occupied by the owner of a pair of crystal blue eyes and peroxided hair.)Yet they had been having fun in Italy. Buffy was not always out trying to kill monsters or save the world. They were actually living like normal people, well, relatively speaking. For the first time in a long while, Dawn had felt safe, like the powers of darkness were not out to get them. And now this.

There were no obvious signs that anything was wrong with Buffy. All the tests had been negative - she just wouldn't wake up. The only thing the doctors had found was a small scratch on her arm but it did not look to be anything unusual. One of her shoes had been splashed with some foul smelling liquid which Willow had sent to the nearest Watchers' Council for analysis. (Like Giles in England, Italy was trying to rebuild its network of Slayers and Watchers after the devastation wrought by the First's minions. However, they had enough of an organisation left to run some basic tests.) She had also sent the rotten fruit which had been saved by Dawn as evidence, but analysis had shown nothing out of the ordinary with anything. The fruit was just fruit and the slime some kind of demon residue, though they did not recognise what kind. Dawn insisted that the only healthy food in the apartment the day before Buffy's collapse had been some bananas and a couple of rather squashy tomatoes. So why would Buffy bring home a bag of bad fruit?

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><p>Buffy lay there in her hospital bed. Willow did not like the look of her, even though she actually looked beautiful. Her skin was porcelain white, her lips rose red and glistening. She seemed to be surrounded by a misty glow and her blonde hair had never looked more like skeins of golden silk as it lay on her pillow surrounding her face. She did not look real, more like a picture in a storybook. This was supernatural, she was completely certain of it.<p>

Willow had drawn a blank and so had everyone she knew and all the people they knew: the wiccas, the shamans, the demonologists, all those who might be expected to have an insight into what could have caused this. She had called Giles. She had even called Angel at Wolfram and Hart. He had probably the best resources in the world when it came to anything paranormal, but so far no one had any idea.

So it was back to research-y mode; something familiar, something that at least felt like it could be useful. Endless hours spent trawling through the Internet, wishing she was back in the Magic Box with all those deadly dull ancient tomes that had, on more than one occasion, saved them by having just the right information they needed.

Willow smiled to herself, remembering all those times in the shop, with the Scoobies sat round the table. If only she were there now! Dawn would be looking at books that she really shouldn't read, trying to pretend that the awful images often to be found in them were no big deal, that she was grown-up enough to handle them. Anya and Xander would be bickering and getting very little research done. Or they would be making googly eyes at each other, planning how soon they could leave and rush home to bed. Actually, that last part could equally describe Tara and herself, though they would have felt more guilt about it than the other two.

Buffy would be in the back room training, having become bored with the books in about three seconds, her attention span for research being about equal to a toddler's. Giles would be glaring at Xander as he made his silly jokes or he would be riveted by a particular large, musty and obscure book, unable to understand why everyone else was not as fascinated as he was. In her fantasy she even had a little place for Spike, standing apart from everyone, trying to look like he wanted to be alone, to be the cool, tough rebel, yet really just wanting to be accepted by Buffy in some way, just to be allowed into her world. Strange how this mismatched band of misfits had usually managed to work out what to do, so that the world could be saved, yet again.

'Well, Willow, my girl, you and Dawnie are on your own and it's up to you to fix this. No time for mopey reminiscences. We're going to work out what did this and how to wake Buffy up.' She didn't even realise she was speaking aloud.

'Splendid. I'm glad to hear it. And I might be able to help.'

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><p>'Giles! When did you get here? I'm so happy to see you!' She was overcome with joy at seeing someone who had always been a rock in their lives, the stable father figure that most of them lacked. He might be uptight and rather a fusspot but he was usually reliable and, in their present predicament, it was really great to share the burden with someone. It was sooooooo exhausting being a grown-up.<p>

In her relief, she flung herself at him and hugged him tightly. He coughed and gently pulled away, embarrassed but rather touched. Willow went pink and backed away. 'Um. Here she is. Still no change.' And Willow moved to the side so that Giles could see Buffy.

Giles stood where he was for a very long moment, while the muscles tensed in his jaw as he tried to control the powerful emotions that coursed through him when he saw Buffy lying there, so unnaturally still and pale. She looked so small and vulnerable, and that was not his Buffy. He swallowed and then walked slowly to her bedside. Very tentatively he picked up one of her icy cold hands and held it between both of his, trying to impart some warmth into it.

After what seemed like hours, he felt like he had gained some control over his voice, so he cleared his throat and asked Willow, 'So you have been unable to ascertain what caused this?' Willow was going through the whole story again when she heard a commotion outside the door.

She turned to see two familiar but unexpected faces. Their owners were each trying to get through the door first and they were pushing each other. 'Xander! Andrew! What on earth are you doing here?' Willow rushed joyfully towards the pair of them, hugging each in turn. 'Will! Am I glad to see you!' 'Willow, queen of all witches, it is a privilege to be in your presence once more!' The three of them were all talking at the same time until an exasperated Giles turned to them and said loudly in his clear English voice, 'Yes, all right, the grand reunion is very touching, but we **are** in a hospital, not a zoo. Could you please tone it down a little? Buffy may be very ill.'

That shut them up. Xander and Andrew came slowly towards the bed, where they stood looking down at the Slayer's still, silent form. Even Andrew could not think what to say. Xander caressed Buffy's cheek gently with one hand, his eyes suspiciously bright. 'What the hell has done this to her? How are we going to fix it?' Xander asked in a fierce whisper. Willow decided to take them to the cafeteria to bring them up to speed about Buffy's situation. Giles stayed by her bedside, holding her hand and trying to calm the violent anger he could feel building up inside him at who or whatever had done this to his girl.

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><p>In the cafeteria the boys were explaining to Dawn (who had given a very unsophisticated squeal of delight when she had seen them and had caused both of them to blush by the fierceness of her welcome hugs) and Willow why they were there. 'We were on Council business in England,' explained Andrew, trying and failing not to sound self -important when he said that, 'when Giles got the news from you about Buffy. Of course we had to come; the Scoobies are always there for the Slayer, no matter what.'<p>

Willow gave him and Xander a grateful smile. 'I'm so happy you're here, all the Scoobies together again.' She winced when she saw the fleeting look of pain cross Xander's face. 'Well, not all of us, of course, but still... Buffy would be happy to know we're together again, sorting out the demons or whatever it is.' 'So, what is it we are dealing with exactly?' asked Xander.

And for the next hour Willow and the others went through every aspect of what had happened, going over and over the details with Dawn, until she said in exasperation, 'Guys! I've told you everything I know a million times. Nothing weird was going on. We've been leading pretty normal lives, for us. Buffy still patrols sometimes but there's been very little action, of the supernatural kind anyway.' She blushed when she realised what she had said. 'You know what I mean!'

'Where is Mr Perfect, anyway?' asked Xander slightly resentfully. 'I sent the Immortal away on a fact-finding mission,' Willow replied. 'He was getting to be a little annoying. He's a bit overdramatic and I kept finding him here weeping over Buffy going, 'Why, my darling, why?' It was not helping. He knows someone who's an expert in ancient curses, so he's gone to see what he can find out.'

After a while they were joined by Giles. The nurses were giving Buffy a bed bath so he had beaten a hasty retreat. The five of them sat drinking the awful coffee and trying to come up with a plan of action. They worked out a schedule for staying at the hospital to keep an eye on Buffy and those not on Buffy watch would be out looking for clues, doing research, trying to find out anything. Willow and Dawn had already been doing that but they all felt that they would go mad sitting around doing nothing.

'So we're agreed, then, on who is doing what?' asked Giles. 'Yep,' replied Xander. 'Let's get started. Dawn and I are going to the National Library. Her Italian is way better than mine, but I can cause a distraction if we need to steal any ancient books.'

'That is no laughing matter, Xander. Stealing a book is one of the worst crimes there ...' Giles stopped at the look of amusement on everyone's faces. 'Very funny. But book theft is not something I can laugh about.' Trying to maintain his dignity, the Watcher got up slowly, and then spoilt it by saying, 'Right everyone, hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go.' They all looked at him oddly. Not the normal way Giles spoke. He looked a little surprised at himself and went off shaking his head.

* * *

><p>And so it continued for the next week: sitting by Buffy's bed, research, meeting all kinds of weird and wonderful people and some who were not people, through the contacts all of them had acquired both in Italy and elsewhere. But they got nowhere. Buffy was clearly under some kind of spell or curse, but they were no nearer to finding a clue.<p>

Then the Immortal returned with a lead. He had met with a demon who had heard whispers that the Slayer being in Italy had upset a few underworld creatures, some of whom were very powerful. The destruction of Sunnydale and the creation of so many slayers had sent ripples throughout the forces of darkness. Evil was down, but not out. And some were ready for revenge. The rumour the Immortal had heard was that an ancient curse had been enacted against Buffy. The name he had was the demoness Myrsina. A day spent reading some old books provided by an Italian librarian friend of Giles gave them a possible answer.

Dawn looked up from the huge, musty tome she had been ploughing through. 'It says here that Myrsina was the origin of the stories of Snow White and Sleeping Beauty: something about a female demon who was jealous of the beauty of human girls and put a curse on them.'

'But that makes perfect sense. The red apple, the hi hos we keep coming out with, the enchanted sleep...' exclaimed Giles excitedly. And then he was off on one of his long, 'informative speeches. The others rolled their eyes at each other, except for Willow who was happy to see Giles looking so animated and almost back to his old Watcher self.

'Most folk or fairy tales have some basis in truth. Rumplestiltskin, Hansel and Gretel, Jack and the Beanstalk, to name a few, all tell of real-life encounters with demons. They were a way for people to try to understand what was happening around them, or to make it a little less frightening.

'You're right! Think about Dracula or zombies, or witches! Most people think they are just stories and yet they all exist.' Willow was trying in her Willowish way to show enthusiasm, while the rest of the gang had the usual look of boredom on their face that they always got listening to a lecture from Giles.

Giles tried to hide his pleasure that someone was showing an interest in what he had to say. Encouraged, he continued, 'In the 18th Century, the writer Johann Musäus wrote down many so called folk tales, some of which influenced others, such as the Brothers Grimm. He knew his stories were true, but he disguised them as fiction. Over the years, of course, the stories have been changed or sanitized, or added to, in different communities. It's all terribly fascinating. There are some marvellous treatises on the supernatural origin of folkloric narratives. I'll have to look them up. I remember one in particular by Professor...'

Xander could take it no more. 'Well, that's super interesting; remind me to borrow it from you some day. But... reality check - how does it help us to wake Buffy up?'

Giles looked a little put out at having his speech interrupted. 'If you had let me finish, I could have told you that what we have to do is find out more about Myrsina. The most complete records of the true nature of European fairy tales are in Musäus' book 'Volksmärchen und Dämonen Manuskript.' The only one I know of was destroyed by the First when the Council building in England was blown up. But there may be others in existence.'

Dawn was looking a little perplexed. 'If fairy stories are true, what does that say about Walt Disney? Did he know about demons?

'Oh, he was a notorious demon hunter in his time,' said Giles. 'It was well known in Watcher circles. Though when he decided to use his knowledge to make children's entertainment, it was considered to be rather vulgar.'

Andrew, who had been unnaturally quiet, spoke up, 'So how can we get this book? Where do we start looking? Oh, it's hopeless, hopeless! Who can save Buffy now?'

Giles gave him a withering look and said, 'Excuse me. I have some phone calls to make.'

And, with that, he left the cafeteria, leaving the others looking at each other. It was left to Willow to try to inject a lighter note. 'See, now we have a plan. Buffy will be awake in no time and she will be so happy to everyone back together!' The others smiled at her, with differing degrees of optimism, according to their nature.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Disclaimer_**_: Don't own anything._

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

The next night, Dawn, Willow and Xander found themselves on the way to the Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale. A contact of Giles' had said that there was a copy of the book they needed in a secret vault in the National Library, where certain volumes on the supernatural were kept.

It was a cold, foggy night and Dawn shivered. 'Why couldn't we just have gone in during the day as if we were going to borrow a book and then tried to get into the vault?'

'Because the librarian who's going to help us told us to meet him at this time. I know you like to be all Action Girly but we don't need to break into anything. The guy is going to lend us the book,' Willow answered patiently. They had gone over all this before. 'Giles' friend is calling in a lot of favours for this. The Council in London are on the trail of a complete copy of the book but that might take time. This guy says there's part of the manuscript here, in the library. Anything's better than nothing.'

They went down a narrow alleyway where they had been directed to meet the man by a side door. The alley was gloomy and dirty, with piles of rubbish which the wind was blowing from side to side. The one street light did not appear to be working.

Dawn gave a snort, 'This looks like something out of a horror movie. I feel like something's going to leap out on us.'

'Wouldn't be the first time, Dawnie,' Xander put his arm through hers affectionately. 'In fact, when did we ever walk down a deserted street at night and not have something big, ugly and antisocial try to rip us to pieces?'

'Xander, looks like that's not going to change,' Willow spoke unnaturally calmly. The other two stopped and looked at her. She was looking behind them, her face frozen. They turned, very slowly.

Thirty feet behind them was a smelly, green, scaly thing with a lot of teeth and limbs. How the hell had it crept up on them unheard and unseen? Buffy, if she had not been lying in a magically induced sleep a few miles away, would have recognised it as the twin of the one she had faced in the park the night this had all started.

It growled, its teeth making a disgusting sucking noise, saliva dripping from its fangs, and suddenly it started walking towards them, heavy footed, but determined. Dawn, and Xander, too, much to his later shame, screamed at the top of their lungs and started to run away, down into the dark depths of the alleyway. Xander subsequently claimed that it was the shock of seeing it there, and that he was out of practice with patrolling. To his credit, after a few seconds he screeched to a halt and turned back, remembering the axe he had in his hand. Giles had insisted that they should not go out at night unarmed. But there was no need for his heroics. Willow had it under control.

* * *

><p>Willow, after the first jolt of surprise at the sight of the demon, narrowed her eyes. 'Enough's enough! We have not got time for this!' She raised her hands, pointed a finger at the monster and said, in a guttural voice that scared the others almost as much as the creature did, 'DEYJA! DEYJA! I COMMAND YOU! DEYJA!'<p>

The creature faltered and stopped in its tracks. A high pitched scream came from its mouth and then it exploded, raining green blood and slime and little bits of demon all over the street and over the three of them. Xander looked at Willow in awe. 'Holy cow, Will. When did you learn how to do that?'

Willow turned to them and they took a step back when they saw her completely black eyes. She shook her head and everything returned to normal. She smiled in a way that was slightly unnerving. 'Don't worry. I've got it under control. What do you think I've been doing since Sunnydale? You know me, never happy unless I'm studying and learning something new.'

She waved her hands and suddenly all traces of the creature had disappeared. 'Come on. Let's find this guy and ask him why we had that welcoming party waiting for us.' Dawn and Xander looked at each other, unsure what to say. Then Dawn shrugged and said, 'Let's go.'

The scarred, heavy, wooden door opened easily and they went in, Dawn shining a torch in front of them. At the end of a corridor, they found a tiny, wizened man dressed in an ancient suit, cowering behind a large statue in a long, marble floored corridor with dozens of doors opening off it.

At first, he was too scared to talk to them, but Willow's gentle voice soon calmed him down and he took them to a small, untidy office. 'Please, we must be quick. The security alarm is off, but not for long. I have what you want.' And he pulled a plastic bag wrapped round something book-shaped out of a drawer.

Willow took the parcel from him, but stepped in front of him before he could scurry out of the door. 'Something was waiting for us in the alleyway. How did it know we would be there? Are you working for both sides here?' Her voice was still soft, but there was an underlying power to it that no one could miss.

The man seemed terrified. He could hardly get his words out, such was his fear. 'I..I... swear, on the Holy Virgin, I know nothing about this. But the forces of darkness are everywhere, even here. The evil ones are not happy about the spell you cast, at the so many slayers there now are. Please, you have to believe me.'

Willow looked at him for a long moment. 'When Buffy is awake, she and I will be back to ask you some questions. Someone's going to pay for what they did to her. But right now, we don't have time for this.'

With that, she handed the book to Xander and walked purposefully out of the room. With Dawn saying 'Grazie. Grazie' to the petrified librarian and Xander trying to look macho and like he, not Willow, was the leader of the group, they followed her hastily out of the office and back onto the street. It was as quiet as the grave.

* * *

><p>It was a few days later in Buffy's and Dawn's apartment. The relevant section of the book had been translated, though the results had been less than satisfactory. Andrew was at the hospital on Buffy watch but the rest of them were in her living room, standing facing each other, pretty much having a shouting match, with everyone talking at once.<p>

'That's the dumbest thing I have ever heard! 'That can't be the cure!'

'My sources have gone over the translation very carefully and are quite certain...'

'But it's so corny! What demon would go to the trouble of cursing someone if that's all you need to do to...'

'Yes, but the idea of one's soul mate is quite problematic. Not everyone finds their true love or even recognises them when they find them. Buffy has had a somewhat convoluted love life so how can we be certain who fits the bill?'

'Well, we'll have to ask her who the love of her life is. Oh wait, she's in a COMA!'

'What's the big deal? Let's just get all of Buffy's exes here and they can all try.'

'Yes, well, that's not possible for all of them, is it?'

'Oh, for God's sake, don't start on about Captain Peroxide. For the last time, Buffy was never in love with him. She wasn't in her right mind when they were doing the nasty, I mean, we'd just brought her back from the dead, so she didn't know what she was doing!'

'Xander, don't you start having a go at Spike. She DID love him; you have no idea how she's been feeling since we left Sunnydale'.

'Well, she is not exactly grieving for him, is she, if she's going out with the big I?'

'It's been months! She's entitled to a life! Not everyone has to pine forever and mope around like a pathetic puppy.'

'DAWN! Enough. That's not fair. Xander can mourn for Anya as long as he needs to.'

Dawn looked a little ashamed at Willow's words, and mumbled, 'Sorry, Xan.'

* * *

><p>Giles took off his glasses and started polishing them. 'I'm not sure why everyone is getting so upset. We just have part of the section about the Myrsina curse but it seems fairly clear that Buffy can only be awakened by the kiss of her true love and the correct ritual. So, as a start, I've sent for Angel, because he seems to be the one who most fits that description who's actually available.' There was a shocked silence and everyone looked at him. 'Well, I hardly think the Immortal is the love of her life. Anyway, Angel should be here soon.'<p>

'Actually, that's a pretty good idea, Giles,' said Willow. 'It's worth a try.'

'But what happens if the wrong person kisses her?' Dawn asked, a note of doubt in her mind.

'Ah, well, that's the problem. We aren't sure. But I have people looking for a more complete version of the Manuskript.'

'So why can't we just wait?'

'Because Buffy's vital signs are getting worse and worse and we don't know how much time she has left. We have to try something.'

Xander spoke again, only half joking, 'Anyway, I can feel myself getting shorter and, what with the hi hos and feeling an inclination to buy a pickaxe, maybe the curse is affecting us, too and we will end up as dwarves.'

'Um, I think they prefer being called little people these days,' said Willow uncertainly.

'And there's only five of us, not seven,' said Dawn. 'So that doesn't fit'.

'We could call Kennedy and Faith and tell them to come. And we could definitely come up with dwarf names for us all.' Xander spoke with a desperate kind of hilarity. 'How about Giles as Dull, me as Dorky, Andrew as Whiney, Will as Nicey and Dawn as Stroppy. When Angel comes he could definitely be Broody the Dwarf. Oh, right, he's supposed to be the handsome prince, come to save the day. That'll be a stretch for him.' He started to laugh nervously. Willow walked closer to him and put her arm through his, understanding his usual need to cover his fears with jokes, silly and inappropriate as they were at this time.

There was a silence which Xander felt compelled to break. 'Right, then we let Angel plant one on her and, if that doesn't work, why don't I give it a go? I always thought she had a secret thing for me!'

Dawn glared at Xander and Willow gave him a reproachful look. 'I hardly think this is the time for levity, do you, Xander?' said Giles wearily.

'No, I suppose not. Sorry. Feeling a tad frustrated. It just seems such a vague plan with so many what ifs about it. Isn't there any other way? There must be some kind of decursing spell, Will, surely to God?'

'Don't you think I've tried everything? This demoness must be very powerful. None of the antidote spells have made the least difference, you know that. We'll just have to hope that Angel can help.'

Right then the doorbell rang and they all turned towards the front door.

Dawn ran to answer it and flung it open. There he was, all tall, dark and handsome, looking suitably brooding and tortured in his leather jacket. It was on the minds of more than one in the group that he would make a pretty damn fine Prince Charming.

'So the gang's all here. Nice. Now will someone please explain to me what's going on with Buffy and why you've dragged me here all the way from LA?'

* * *

><p>It was the next morning. Angel and Willow had gone to the hospital after a late night going through the whole story again. Angel, who was looking tired and rather deflated, Willow thought, had been surprisingly negative about the idea of him being the one who could free Buffy from the curse.<p>

'Look, Willow, this all seems ridiculous. I've seen the movie. How can the whole Snow White thing have any basis in truth? It's a story for kids.'

'You know so many so-called fictional stories are based on truth. I mean, look at Sesame Street - the Count, Big Bird, Oscar the Grouch, the Cookie Monster. They all have supernatural origins. I was horrified when I heard the true story of Bert and Ernie. And it's supposed to be a show for children! I know we don't have much to go on. But there was the apple and the rumours the Immortal heard. Myrsina seems to be very powerful demoness. I mean, we don't know if she is the one responsible or how she might have got to Buffy, but it's the only thing we've got to go on.'

'But why me? She's had other men in her life.'

'C'mon, Angel, you and she had a strong connection. Who else is there now? We're running out of time and we have to do something.'

A strange expression flitted over the vampire's face. But he shook himself, seemingly chasing away unwelcome thoughts. Then he went over to Buffy,who was still lying there as if dead, and looked down at her lovely face. She looked like a marble statue on an Italian tomb. He touched her cheek gently, and withdrew it quickly, shocked at the fact that her skin was no warmer than his.

He sighed deeply. 'OK. So what do I have to do?'

They waited until twelve o'clock that night. Willow wasn't sure why, but it seemed to be the right thing to do. It was such a short ritual that she wanted to make sure that she invested it with as much ceremony and mystical atmosphere as possible. Despite her outward optimism in front of the others, she was not at all convinced that this was going to work. She had asked the others, except for Giles, to stay at the apartment with Dawn. If anything bad happened, she did not want Dawn to see it. Giles was sitting outside the room, just in case anything happened to her or Angel.

So, there they were. She had put a blocking spell on the door of Buffy's room so that they were not interrupted by a nosy nurse or doctor. Otherwise, they would have a lot of explaining to do.

She had surrounded Buffy's bed with candles and plants with magical properties: basil for love, marigolds to ward off evil, chamomile and chilli peppers to break curses, and cinnamon to aid healing. Again, she had no idea if any of it would work, but she had to do something. She was not sure she could take much more of seeing Buffy like this. In the candlelight, it seemed impossible that Buffy would ever wake up again; she looked like a spirit, her translucent white skin gleaming in the dim light. Willow held her breath.

Outside, they could hear the clock in the tower of a nearby church chime the first stroke of midnight. Angel began saying the words, repeating them as the clock sounded the twelve beats signalling the end of the old day and the start of the new one.

The vampire took Buffy's hands between his and began. 'Besorgu cwén; áwace! Besorgu heortlufe; onwæcne! Besorgu ærsum; lufe! Besorgu hordwynn; ádríeg!' Angel's voice rang out strongly, not faltering over the difficult words.

On the last stroke of midnight, he bent down and gently kissed her on her bright red lips.

* * *

><p>The next day, the whole group, except for Angel, were sitting in the hospital cafeteria, while the doctor ran the normal checks on Buffy. They all sat around, unable to say much, trying to take in the news that Willow had just told them. Andrew had a guilty look on his face and sat trying not to draw attention to himself.<p>

Angel, once he realised that Buffy was not going to wake up, had vanished into the city. They had left the hospital in the early hours of the morning, because Willow wanted to tell the others of the failure of the ritual in person. Giles had stayed behind, just in case there was any change in Buffy.

Willow tried her best to make Angel feel better about what had happened. 'Angel, look, you did do some good. Her vital signs have improved. So you made a difference.'

'But she didn't wake up! So much for our eternal love!'

She took one of his hands in hers. She was much shorter than him so she pulled him down onto to one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs to be found in hospitals everywhere. Then she looked into his face, forcing him to have eye contact with her. She had always been a little in awe of the handsome vampire but she had never seen him look so beaten.

She spoke kindly, though she knew he might not like what she had to say, 'Really? Did you truly think you two were destined to end up together? You and Buffy had something amazing, but a lot's happened since then. For both of you. You're not each other's soul mates any more. So now, we have to think of something else. If your love's not enough to wake up Buffy, I don't know where else to turn. I really doubt either the Immortal or Riley is Buffy's true love, so we're out of options.' Her voice trembled on the last few words.

Angel stood up suddenly and walked a few paces down the corridor. With his back to her, he squared his shoulders and abruptly said, in a strained voice, 'That's not strictly true. We do have someone else who...'

He stopped, as if unable to go on. 'There is someone who might be able to help, thought I doubt it. But, as you said, we're out of other options.'

Once he had told her, he left, silently, swiftly, unable to take the look of shock and reproach on Willow's face.

* * *

><p><em>Did I mention that I love REVIEWS? :)<em>


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N - ****Disclaimer** - Don't own the characters. Do I have to say that each time? Because it is mean to keep reminding me that I didn't think of the Buffy universe first.

_- So FINALLY - here is my beloved Spike! Can't you see how excited I am? The bits where Spike talks are my favourite part of this story. Spike is really why I wanted to write a Buffy story in the first place. I still adore him, after all these years._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

A couple of days later, there was an addition to their number. 'That's a little spooky, there actually being seven of us now, don't you think?' This from Xander who was trying to do anything to distract himself from the fact that that his blond nemesis was back in the picture. He was trying to be happy about it, as it might help Buffy, but he all he could think was, _If someone had to survive the final showdown, or was brought back from oblivion, why not Anya? WHY NOT ANYA?_ He very carefully refrained from saying that out loud to anyone.

Andrew had tried to justify why he had not mentioned the fact he knew that Spike was undead and well in LA. Nobody was interested in his explanation or in his look of martyrdom. So he kept out of the way as much as possible, doing the small but important things that no one noticed, like cleaning the apartment or getting food. It was his way of saying sorry, as always. Dawn had torn a strip off him and Angel in a way that had shaken the whole apartment building. Angel was amused and impressed at how fierce Little Sis could be. And perhaps he was a little intimidated, though he would never have admitted it.

Giles, torn between hope and despair at what the reintroduction of Spike into their lives could mean, took the phone number from Angel, and made the call. He said little to Spike, just that Buffy needed him. He knew that would be enough to bring the vampire to Italy at once.

With the seven of them crowded into the hospital room around Buffy's bed, it was getting a little claustrophobic. Giles tried to sound authoritative. 'Right. I think everyone needs to wait outside and give Spike and Willow some room. I am really not sure why everyone felt the need to come to the hospital now.'

'Because it is getting to desperate last hope time, isn't it?' said Dawn, far more calmly than she felt. No one answered her. Giles quietly asked Xander andAndrew to go and get some drinks for them. Glad of the excuse to leave the tense atmosphere of Buffy's room, they made a hasty retreat. In the small, high bed at the side of the room, the Slayer slept on, oblivious to it all.

* * *

><p>Angel began pacing around the room, giving the impression that at any minute he might punch something, or someone, in his frustration. His voice had that slightly petty tone that, under other circumstances, was rather adorable. <em>But not right now,<em> Willow thought to herself as he started to rant.

'Do you really think this is going to work? I mean, I know Buffy and Spike had something. But **true love**! Buffy would laugh in your face. Ok, she told me that Spike was in her heart, but that's not the same thing as being soul mates. I couldn't wake her up, even though everyone knows that Buffy and I...'

'What about Cordelia?' Willow interrupted quietly but firmly. She was still mad at him for not telling them about Spike earlier.

'What?'

'Cordelia. Fred told me a few things, and Lorne, too. I know that she's gone, but what about your feelings for her? Wasn't that true love? Your relationship with Cordy - where does that fit in with you and Buffy being Romeo and Juliet, destined to be together forever, but torn apart by circumstances, blah, blah, blah? Or was it just casual lust? I mean, she was pretty hot.'

The rather harsh tone, from the normally sweetness and light Willow, shocked Angel, who looked like he would be red in the face, with anger or shame, who knows what, if vampires could do that. He answered her through gritted teeth.

'There was nothing casual about it! But our relationship had nothing to do with Buffy and me.'

'So, if Buffy and Cordelia were both standing here, who would you pick? Are you telling me that it'd definitely be Buffy, that you wouldn't need a second to think about it?'

'I...' His voice trailed off.

This time, Willow spoke in a gentler tone of voice. 'You know, people can have more than one great love. Look at me. When Tara died, I thought that was it, I was done. Actually, I thought that, too, the first time Oz left! But I managed to find someone else, both times. Loving Kennedy does not mean that Tara was not my true love. Spike thought Drusilla was his, and then came Buffy. What about you and Darla? You loved her, didn't you? Our lives are made up of the people we care about and I don't think that we have only so many and that's it, we're done. Maybe, for this moment, Buffy and Spike are meant to be together. That doesn't cancel out what she had with you!'

Angel glared at her. 'What about the Immortal? How come she's going out with him if Spike is 'the one'?'

Willow sat down on the seriously uncomfortable sofa, next to Dawn, who was uncharacteristically silent. 'Angel, she doesn't even know Spike's alive!' She paused, thinking about what she had just said. 'Well, he's still not alive, really, more like actively undead. You know what I mean. The Immortal's just her attempt to have a normal life. Dawn says that Buffy still thinks about Spike, that she's still not over him, even though she pretends otherwise. Even when I talk to her on the phone, I can feel it.'

This time Dawn added her mite to the conversation. 'Something's missing in Buffy. Sometimes, she seems more like the Buffybot than herself. I ache for her, when I hear her trying to be normal, trying to get on with her life. I think it was cruel to hide the fact that Spike was back from her. She needs him and she misses him, even after all these months. I know she does, even if she doesn't say it.'

Willow smiled at Dawn, grateful for her support. 'Remember I told you how we all kicked her out of the house, just before the showdown with the First? Spike was the only one who stood by her, who kept the faith. We all let her down, but not him, not him. So maybe he **is **the one, for now. God, I hope so, because if he can't wake her up...'

'Then we keep trying, until we find a way. That's what Buffy would do and so will we, until we get it right and she's back with us. But I do NOT think that I'm the answer to this particular problem!' Spike's voice, quiet but full of passion, came from near the doorway, where he had been keeping apart from everyone, as if he were afraid to be near the bed, to be near **her**.

* * *

><p>'Willow, thanks for the vote of confidence, but Captain Forehead is right. Buffy might be <strong>my<strong> one and only, but, are you kidding me, pet? Me, Buffy's true love? Not bloody likely. Yes, I know she said she loved me but, come on, end of the world, Spike being the hero and saving everyone. That's got to make you feel a little guilty, when all you've done is give him a hard time. Let him go to his eternal reward feeling all warm and fuzzy. Well, thanks very much, Slayer, but this here vamp didn't buy into it. I appreciate the thought but I'm really not stupid enough to believe that if I'd survived we'd finally have that picket fence for two. So please explain to me why the hell I'm here.'

'We need your help. Buffy needs your help. If this doesn't work, then, well, then I'm kinda stuck on what to do next. And I don't think any of us could bear to lose her again.' Willow faltered a little at the end and Spike's lips tightened as the thought of how it would feel to attend another funeral for the Slayer froze the blood in his veins. No way would he let that happen again, but he was sure that he was not the answer.

Spike came further into the room, making sure he did not look at Angel, who was pretending to look out of the window at the night sky. 'You know I'll always be there for Buffy if she needs me, but in the absence of anything hell-born to kill, I'm feeling a bit surplus to requirements, love. You've got Mr Broody here, and we all know that he's a much better candidate for Buffy's soul mate than me. Failing that, send for Captain Cardboard or how about Parker, or Pretty Boy Immortal guy, or even Dracula? She had a thing for him, you know. Take your pick, Red, 'cause I'm certainly at the bottom of that particular list. Angry sex, needing someone who's good in a fight and guilt - these do **not** true love make.'

'Spike.' Willow tried to speak calmly but even her normally inexhaustible patience was wearing thin. 'Angel has already tried the ritual and the only effect it had was to return Buffy's heartbeat back to normal. So, yes, he did have a positive effect on her, but he couldn't wake her up. I think that's because they've both moved on. They do love each other, but there's someone else in each of their hearts now.'

'Well, you know damn well it's not me!' 'It's not him!' The two vampires growled at her in unison.

'If you've finished your little pity party, could you shut up and listen.' Dawn chimed in, her voice a strange mixture of irritation and affection. She was SO glad to see the blonde vampire again, despite everything. She had never been able to forget that he had died with bitterness and anger between them.

Of course, how could she forgive him for what he had tried to do to Buffy? Her sister had said more than once that the monster who had acted in that way was gone, had disappeared the second Spike had gotten his soul back. She was not sure if she entirely believed that, but the Spike who had died on that last, awful, awesome, never to be forgotten day in Sunnydale, was a different creature from William the Bloody.

And whatever had happened, Spike had almost always been there for her, especially the summer Buffy was..., well, was not there anymore. All those days and nights playing cards, watching crappy TV, letting her eat too much pizza, being overly protective - it was hard to forget that history. In so many ways he had been like the best kind of big brother. He had understood her, especially her darker side, (who knew better than him how light and dark could vie for attention inside a person and leave you wondering which side would win?) and she had loved him for it.

So when she had seen those ridiculously sculpted cheekbones and that bleached to death hair walk through the door into their apartment, it had been impossible to resist flinging herself at him and hugging him as if her life depended on it. She was as mad as hell that he had kept his return a secret, but she felt such relief that someone who had always been her champion was back and could now be relied upon to take some of the burden off her shoulders.

And it had been hard to withstand the catch in his voice when he looked down at her and said, trying so hard to sound casual, 'Hello, Bit. God, you're getting so tall. And where's the rest of that T-shirt? It's freezing out there, so I'd go and put on something less likely to give those randy Italian boys a heart attack.'

Spike had tried to look Billy Idol cool, not showing just how much that hug had meant to him, because Buffy was not the only Summers woman in his heart, lifeless as that particular organ was supposed to be.

* * *

><p>As they all sat around the room, Dawn tried to focus on the job in hand and not let her emotions soften her resolve. Time to put affection on the back burner and let irritation win, so that she could convince him. How was he being any kind of champion if his insecurities stopped him even trying to wake Buffy up?<p>

'Look, Spike, all you have to do is kiss her and say a few ancient words, not the most difficult challenge you've ever faced. Are you really gonna wimp out just 'cause you're a little angsty about how Buffy feels about you? I tell you, she will kick your ass when she wakes up and finds out you've been back in the world all this time and didn't tell her. Actually, I myself feel like kicking your ass, and don't think that I couldn't do it. How could you do that to us? One phone call from LA, that's all it would've taken to make us feel better. Or were you too busy trying to outdo Angel to remember us?'

'First of all, I had my reasons that I don't feel I need to share with the whole Scooby gang right at this moment, and secondly, what's with all the 'ass' talk? You're a little young for that, don't you think? And what do you mean 'outdo' Angel? I could do that in my sleep, thank you very much. Also, I'll have you know that I've NEVER wimped out of anything in my very long life, so less of the sassiness, young Dawnie, if you don't mind.'

'Could you be any more pompous? This is Buffy we're talking about! You have faced demons and very powerful evil beings and torture and death, and never backed down. So what is your problem?'

'I don't have a problem, brat. I just think you're all on the wrong track. Why would a demon or witch or whatever go to the trouble of casting such a powerful spell/curse thingy, that could be broken so easily?'

'Easily! How many people find their true love? If this spell had happened to me or Giles or Xander or Andrew, then we'd be screwed. Where are our true loves? And what about nuns?'

'Nuns? What the hell are you talking about? What've nuns got to do with anything?'

'The point is that a nun would have a problem being woken up by a kiss from her one true love, wouldn't she? Isn't God supposed to be her love and he could hardly come down on a cloud and give her a big smacker, could he? I mean...' Dawn's voice trailed off as she realised that the others were looking at her, in various degrees of amusement and concern. 'I'm just trying to say that it isn't an easy spell to break, that's all.'

'Right, could we stop the bickering and formulate some plan of action?' Giles, outwardly calm, interjected.

Angel, who had been leaning against the wall, a frown on his face, listening to the exchanges between the others, let out a loud 'Hah!'

'Excuse me, Angel, do you have something you wish to say?' A hint of steel underlay that oh so polite British voice. Giles was reaching the end of his tether. Seven of them and no one had really been able to help Buffy. How on earth had this lot managed to save the world, on more than one occasion?

'I was just thinking how ridiculous this all is. Just let Boy Wonder here plant one on Buffy and then we can sit down and get serious about how to help her, because I'm damn sure that a peck from William the Bloody is not the solution to our problem. So let him do it. We can make sure she is disinfected afterwards.' The last part was said with a smirk.

Dawn heard a low growl coming from Spike. Great. All they needed was for the two undead members of their group to go into vamp mode and have a fight. That would take some explaining to the hospital.

'Angel, you're not being helpful. And Spike, perhaps you could just attempt the ritual so that we know where we are and we can start looking for other solutions, if needs be.' Giles said this while polishing his glasses, a sure sign of agitation.

'If needs be!' Angel and Spike both said it at exactly the same time and began shouting over each other's words.

'Of course there'll be a need. There's no way he's the one for Buffy!'

'None of you really believe that nasty, horrible Spike **could** be the one for Buffy, do you? So why'd you send for me? And you, Tall, Dark and Sulky, you're just sodding well jealous. Your luscious lips didn't work on the Slayer and you're terrified I **will **wake her up and you'll have to live with the idea that she loves me more than you.'

'And you're too scared to try because, somewhere in that pathetic new soul of yours, there's a little voice that tells you Buffy does love you, and when you fail to wake her up, that voice will have to shut up, once and for all. And your stupid little fantasies will crumble into dust, just like we all wish you would.'

By now they were so close they were almost touching, each shouting into the other's face. Dawn and Willow looked at each other, sighed, and got up from the lumpy couch. Dawn went to Spike, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the other side of the room. She then pushed him, hard, in the chest, so that he ended up against the wall, an almost comical look of surprise on his face.

Willow, meanwhile, stood in front of Angel and, standing on her tiptoes, looked him in the eye, from only a few inches away. 'Enough. This isn't helping Buffy.' Angel had the decency to look a little ashamed. Spike meanwhile, took a deep, if unnecessary, breath and smiled wanly at Dawn. 'Sorry, Niblet. Blame it on the jetlag.'

Giles took matters into his own hands. 'Angel, Dawn, let's go and see what mayhem Xander and Andrew are causing. If there's a female demon within a hundred miles, she's bound to have made a beeline for Xander, so he may need rescuing. Or perhaps Andrew has inadvertently summoned up something from Hell that could destroy us all. After all, they've been in that canteen for at least 15 minutes and that's plenty of time for them to get into trouble.'

Dawn giggled kindly at his feeble attempt at humour and, taking his arm, walked outside. Angel, after glaring at Spike one more time, swept out after them, with as much dignity as he could muster.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Disclaimer_**_: Don't own anything._

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

Spike was glaring at the shut door, which had just be slammed shut by Angel.

'God, why does he always have to be such a drama queen? Good job you stepped in, Willow, or he might've got hurt. I just can't stomach any more of his holier than thou crap.'

'And we don't need any more of your jealous vampire crap!'

Spike felt like someone had put a red-hot knife in his gut and twisted it. The look of agony that passed fleetingly over his face made Willow pause and ask, 'Spike, what is it? What's wrong?'

'Nothing, it's nothing...' As she continued to look at him in such sweet concern, he felt he had to explain.

'Look, it's just that Buffy once said almost the exact same thing to me. And ...' And it reminded him of one of those precious (more precious than anything else in his life, before and since) nights when the Slayer had spent the night with him. Not for sex, but for comfort and affection. Where she had chosen to be with him rather than anyone else. Those hours with her were the sweetest and the most painful memories he had.

'I'm sorry. I know how hard the last few months, maybe years, have been, and I know you truly do love Buffy. So you have to help her, you have to. We're counting on you.'

'Ok. I still think it's pointless, Red, but what harm can it do to try?'

There was a pause and a rather guilty look appeared on Willow's face.

'Actually, there's some debate about that. That's why I wanted to talk to you alone.'

'What the hell are you talking about?'

'Um, well, you know we have limited sources of information after the havoc caused by the Bringers and Caleb. There aren't many ancient texts left, so finding things out isn't that easy. But Giles' contact managed to find part of a book that mentions this curse. The problem is, well, the last few pages were missing. We didn't get hold of a more complete text until a couple of days ago, and even then the translation is a little woolly. All we have is a Medieval English version of the original German, which was probably a translation of something else.'

'Woolly?'

'As in the opposite of crystal clear, easy-peasy to understand, can't screw up the ritual 'cos the meaning is so obvious...that kind of woolly.'

'Willow, could you PLEASE get to the point?'

'The thing is ... there is a possibility there's some risk involved in the ritual, both to the one doing the waking up and, and, um, to the one sleeping.'

'Willow, you've already tried the ritual once. Are you saying that it might've hurt Buffy?'

'Possibly, but there wasn't much danger. I mean, Buffy and Angel did love each other. The text seems to be saying that if there isn't love on both sides, then the two involved will sleep for 100 years.'

'Does Angel know about this?'

'No, we hadn't heard about this version of the story when he tried to wake her up. Only Giles, Dawn and I know about it. I didn't tell Xander because he's not exactly your number one fan and he'd just make a big deal about it. And that goes double for Angel.'

'Oh, really, you think? I cannot believe that Giles would agree to this. I'm not on his Christmas card list either, am I, love? There's a VERY tiny possibility that the Slayer returns my feelings, but you're all willing to take a chance on that, which could result in Buffy turning into the next Rip Van Winkle. Great plan, Willow, but bollocks to it!'

'Please listen to me. She's been asleep for weeks. I've tried every spell I and the most powerful witches I know have been able to come up with. We're desperate!'

'Why not take more time, carry on with the research, find ANOTHER WAY?'

'Look, I'm all about the research, as you know. Nothing Dawnie and I love more than reading through hundreds of pages of illegible ancient handwriting, in languages no one has spoken in a few centuries. But we're at the end of the road. Who knows what damage this evil sleep's causing Buffy? And, honestly, I'm a pretty good witch and I don't think there's another way. And Giles and Dawn agree with me. We've talked it over endlessly and we think our only option is for you to try.'

'Willow, I beg of you, don't ask me to do this. I **cannot** be responsible for hurting Buffy again. I mean, forget what could happen to me. I'm not sure some curse designed for mortals would even affect a vampire. But I can't be part of anything that could make things worse for her, I just can't.'

Spike walked up to Willow and looked down, straight into her eyes. The pain she saw in those bluer than blue eyes made her wince. Trying to lighten the mood, she said, 'You know, worst case scenario, she sleeps for a century and when she wakes up, you're there for her and all those people who don't like you are dead and gone. So you'd finally end up together!'

Spike smiled, though it did not quite reach his eyes. 'Yeah, well, Captain Forehead might have something to say about that. God, that's a depressing thought. He and I are the only two of this little group who might still be around in a hundred years. Immortality's really not all it's cracked up to be.'

He walked to the wall, leant against it and slid down to the floor. He looked so despairing that Willow's heart went out to him. She went to sit next to him and put her hand on his leather-clad arm. She realised that he had not even glanced in the direction of the bed once.

'Spike. Why can't you believe that Buffy could love you? She told you so and Buffy's known for her straight talking, no BS approach to life. She's not usually one to sugar-coat things.'

He leant his head against the wall, closed his eyes and said, so quietly that she could hardly hear him, 'I'd give anything to be able to believe that, but, remember, she had no problem telling one vampire with a soul that she loved him and letting everyone else know. Even though Angelus was every bit as evil as William the Bloody. But me, no, she had to hide our relationship from everyone. We were so close those last few weeks, but she just couldn't say it, not until she thought I was toast. So I have a hard time believing those three little words she said to me were anything other than a last ditch attempt at kindness before good old Spike went to meet his maker.'

Willow sighed, stood up and went to the door. 'I need a drink and I'd better ask about where I can get some blood for you and Angel. You must be hungry. We're in a hospital, so it shouldn't be too hard, right?' With that, she walked out of the door, pausing to look back as Spike finally walked up to the bed, his shoulders set in a defeated line that Willow had never seen in him before. She saw him catch sight of Buffy for the first time. She felt like a voyeur when she saw the raw emotion on his face, so she hurried out of the room.

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><p>Spike looked down at Buffy's face - peaceful in a death-like sleep, the whiteness of her face an echo of that other time when she lay lifeless on the ground. That time when his dead heart cracked into a million pieces with a pain that made the many torments he had faced in his over-long life seem like mosquito bites in comparison. That time when he knew she was not in the world anymore; well, that was something his brain still shied away from, as well as the idea that it could be happening again. Because if he couldn't bear it then, when he was soulless, how much worse would it feel now, with that little spark in him?<p>

He paced round the room, fists clenching and unclenching. Should he try to wake her up? The Scoobies had brought her back once before, an act of love, done with the best of intentions. But they had ripped Buffy from Heaven, not Hell; torn her away from the only peace she had known for years. Was he about to do the same? Where was she now, in her supernatural sleep world? He didn't want to be responsible for putting that look back on her face, that 'I think I was in heaven' look. Yet, if she was in Hell, then he had to rescue her, not fail her again.

Spike groaned aloud. He stopped his restless wandering around the white, sterile room and sat by Buffy's side. Tentatively, afraid that he did not have the right, afraid to overstep the mark in any way, he touched her hand. Tiny, fragile, yet capable of giving death and pleasure equally. And now it was powerless. He couldn't help it; a tear rolled down his cheek, his skin no whiter or colder than hers now. I wish that hand could smack me in the nose, just one more time.

Unable to resist, he lifted her hand and held it between both of his. A shudder went through his body as he lowered his head and let his lips gently touch her icy skin. He rested his forehead on her hand, unaware that he was muttering under his breath. 'Buffy, Buffy.'

His head snapped upright. He could have sworn he had heard a tiny, tiny sigh. He looked around but they were still alone. Turning back, he gazed intently at Buffy's marble white face and ruby lips...no, wait a moment. Her mouth was no longer that vicious, glossy blood red colour. A tinge of pink now tempered the scarlet. Her lips were now more like coral or..., God knows what colour you'd call them, but they had definitely changed.

* * *

><p>Spike leapt up, the chair falling over in his haste, shouting at the top of his voice. 'Willow! Willow! Get in here NOW!' The door was flung against the wall as the red-headed witch came running in, with Giles not far behind. Despite what they had said, they had both been waiting outside the room, unable to go too far from Buffy's side.<p>

'What's.., what's wrong? She's not ...?' Willow couldn't finish the sentence as she rushed to Buffy's bedside, pushing Spike out of the way. Giles, his face set rigid with a terrible fear, stood at the end of the bed, unable to say anything.

'Look at her mouth! Her lips have changed colour! And I swear that I heard her sigh!' Willow frowned and, speaking quite sternly for her, soft-hearted as she was, she said, 'Spike! You scared me half to death. I thought she'd ...'

Giles interrupted her, a mixture of relief and doubt clear in his voice. 'No, Willow, Spike was right to call us, though he could, perhaps, have done it in a slightly less dramatic way. Any change is significant. She's been laying there, exactly the same, for weeks. So this must mean something.'

He went to the other side of the bed, taking his glasses off and peering closely at Buffy's face. 'Look, her lips are pinker and there's more colour in her cheeks.'

Spike, standing off to the side, not looking away from the Slayer for even a second, muttered, 'Exactly. Of course it's bloody significant. But is it good significant or bad significant?' Restless as ever, he resumed his pacing around the room, but his eyes kept coming back to the slight form under the white sheets.

As Willow looked down at her friend's face, her head outlined by her bright blonde hair, she saw that it was true. Buffy's milk white skin now had the lightest tinge of pink, so faint that it was barely there. But it **was** there. And her lips were a more natural colour. 'What did you do, Spike?' she asked, half accusingly, half in wonder.

The vampire's face looked almost comically annoyed. 'Me! I didn't sodding do anything! Typical, blame Spike first chance you get! I was just sitting by her side, that's all. I wouldn't do anything to Buffy! When are you all going to get that into your thick...'

'Spike,' Giles interrupted him wearily, 'no one is accusing you of anything. But something has happened to cause this change. She actually looks better so it could be a positive thing. But we have to know exactly what you said or did before she changed colour.'

Willow knew that belligerent look on Spike's face of old. He was hiding something he was ashamed or embarrassed about. She went up to where he was leaning against the wall and looked up into his frowning face. 'Spike, I know you wouldn't hurt Buffy. But whatever you did seems to have helped her. So please tell us what happened and don't miss anything out.'

Spike sighed and pushed himself away from the wall. He walked over to the window and looked out over the city, which was lit up with countless twinkling lights. The reflection made his white skin glow with an unearthly light and Willow's heart went out to him as he stood there; beautiful, tragic, the agony of his inability to help Buffy clearly etched on his face.

'Look, Willow, I don't think this can be anything to do with me. Maybe the spell is breaking and she's going to wake up.'

Spike ... what... did... you... do?' Willow spoke kindly, patiently, her hand on his arm. 'Tell us, step by step, what happened.'

He looked round at Giles who had a strange, unreadable expression on his face, as if he had suddenly realised something profound. 'Spike, I accept that you would give your life for Buffy. I accept that you're a changed man, as Buffy has always said. I accept that you have a soul, a real soul. That makes you one of us, much as it pains me to say it. So we have to work together to get her back... again. I'm going to get a cup of tea, if that godforsaken cafeteria can produce such a thing. Tell Willow what you did. Please.'

With that, Giles walked out in a very dignified way, his shoulders pulled back as if he had just faced an unpleasant task, but had managed to do it.

For a moment, Spike and Willow stared at his back, mouths open in surprise. 'Blimey, it must've killed him to say all that to William the Bloody, his least favourite person on the planet.' A trace of the old Spike could be seen in the wicked grin that he flashed Willow.

The witch took him by the hand and led him to the saggy grey couch. Sitting down, she pulled him into the place beside her and then turned to face him. 'So, step by step...' She patted his hand encouragingly. He looked down at her hand and laid his on top. Then he told her, hesitating at certain embarrassing parts, like the crying, his gaze firmly fixed on their hands. When he had finished, he lifted his face to look at her, and he saw tears shining in her eyes.

'Oh, Spike, Spike!' And she flung her arms around him, hugging him like her life depended on it. Just for a second, he hugged her back, touched and a little surprised; then he pulled back and put his arms on hers so that they were face to face. 'Willow, this is all very sweet and all that, but I did nothing special!'

'You really don't get it, do you? You have to do the ritual, this proves it!'

'Not following you, love.'

'God, you can be so dense at times. I need to get Giles.'

And with that she practically skipped out of the room, leaving a bemused Spike to gaze after her in confusion.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer**__: Still not my characters._

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

'Are you sure about this?'

They were back in the cafeteria ... again, in the middle of the night... again. Was there ever a time in their lives which had not been spent under harsh strip lights in a featureless, colourless building which smelt of disinfectant and despair? How could they be in one of the loveliest cities in the world? Hope and beauty seemed to be remote, unimaginable things, alien to this new environment in which they found themselves.

Andrew had offered to be on Buffy Watch as he did not really have much to say on the whole 'Does Buffy love Spike?' issue. He had always liked the idea of the vampire and the Slayer romance because he was all about stories and that made a great narrative. But, for that reason, it had never seemed completely real, more like something out of one of his beloved graphic novels (just let anyone dare call them comics). And as someone who had little experience with romantic love, he felt uncomfortable taking part in the discussion.

'Are you sure about this?' Giles looked intently at Willow and Dawn.

'Giles! Spike didn't even do the ritual and look at the improvement in Buffy! It has to be him!' Dawn spoke with the enthusiasm of youth, and as someone who was sure that her sister loved the blond vamp.

Not everyone in the group shared this belief, but they could not really think of anything to say against it. As Willow had said, they were kind of out of options. Xander and Angel looked down at the ugly formica table top of the cafeteria table. They were silent but both were shouting on the inside at the outrageous idea that Spike.. SPIKE! ... might actually be the one for Buffy. What kind of universe would allow that to be true?

Giles thought that he was done fighting the whole notion of Buffy and Spike as a pair. It was too exhausting and where did it get him? Trying to sever their connection had very nearly destroyed his relationship with Buffy permanently when they were in Sunnydale. And in the end, the Slayer had been right; Spike had sacrificed himself to save the world. So who was he to judge?

Spike was sitting next to Willow, with a sardonic, 'Come on then, have a go at the nasty vampire if you dare' expression on his face. He was waiting for all the arguments against the idea that he should try the ritual. But, to his surprise, there were none. No one had any other ideas to put forward and Buffy was still upstairs, lying motionless in that bed. The only person who had made much difference was Spike, so how could they try to stop him?

'Come on! We have to do something!' Dawn's voice was squeaky with eagerness.

Willow squeezed Dawn's hand and looked hopefully at Giles. They had somehow slipped back into their old roles, with Giles as the father figure that they looked to for reassurance and validation. Even Angel and Spike, both unusually unsure of themselves in these unprecedented circumstances, were ready to go along with whatever he said.

Giles sighed, stood up and said, 'Then let's stop procrastinating and do this. Willow, you go with Spike and tell him how to do the ritual. The rest of us will wait for a while to give you time to do that and then we'll go and sit outside Buffy's room until.., well, until it's over.'

* * *

><p>Willow and Spike, not speaking, made their way back up to the room. Andrew took one look at their faces and quietly went outside. It was not midnight and Willow didn't bother with the candles or the plants or any of the other things she normally thought were important to create the right atmosphere for magic to succeed. Either the ritual would work or it wouldn't. If it didn't ... but she would not allow herself to think about that right now. She pulled the paper with the words on it from her pocket and handed it to Spike, telling him what he had to do.<p>

He read through the few phrases, sighing in irritation. 'Just once, wouldn't it be nice if spells used a modern language that people actually still speak? OK, let's do this.'

* * *

><p>A sombre group slowly wended their way up to the ICU floor. Buffy's room was round a corner, out of sight of the nurses' station. They could hear nothing from the room so they arranged themselves according to their nature.<p>

Angel leant up against the wall, looking out of the window, his face a careful blank. He might be a mass of conflicting emotions inside, but he was determined to preserve a facade of icy calm. His dignity was one of the few things he still had left.

Andrew sat slightly apart from the group, secretly fiddling with the little Boba Fett figure hidden in his pocket. He carried it with him everywhere, as a kind of talisman. He had done that ever since, just after they had left Sunnydale, Dawn and Willow had given it to him for his birthday. They told him it was to replace the one that had been destroyed, along with everything else, when Sunnydale had collapsed into the Hellmouth. Along with the Star Wars action toy, they had given him a tiny replica of Shaggy.

He had been a little puzzled by that, until Willow said, with a sweet smile, 'He's from Scooby Doo, isn't he? So he's part of the Scooby gang.' He had sat stunned at the implication in her words. For once, he had not been able to say a word. To be accepted, finally. Well, mere words were inadequate, for once. So he had smiled tremulously at them both, and had run from the room, muttering something about hotpockets. From then on he had been determined to stand by these people, no matter what and no matter how scattered the group became. He was part of something awesome, and that was all he had ever wanted.

Xander was sitting on a chair, looking at the floor with his arms tightly folded, wrestling with the deep, dark, ugly part of himself that really hated the idea that, in the next few minutes, they could have mystical proof that Buffy and Spike belonged together. If that happened, then that would mean Buffy was awake, and that was worth anything. Even the definite knowledge that Spike had finally won. Wasn't it worth it? He gritted his teeth and told himself just to think about Buffy getting better. He could not allow that treacherous, tiny voice that whispered in his brain _Don't work, don't work_ to bring bad luck to Buffy. What kind of friend was he?

Dawn, her eyes shut, a small line between her eyebrows the only visible sign of emotion, sat next to Xander, leaning against his shoulder. The warmth of his body and his solid presence were a comfort; she wasn't quite sure why.

Giles sat next to Dawn, endlessly polishing his glasses, constantly glancing at Buffy's door.

Then they all turned their heads in the same direction when they heard firm footsteps coming down the corridor.

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><p>'Besorgu cwén; áwace! Besorgu heortlufe; onwæc..' Spike stumbled over the words and stopped. He felt, quite frankly, like a fool. <em>How could this possibly work<em>? 'This really is ridiculous. This can't be the answer, Red!'

Standing at the side of the room, Willow sighed deeply. Then she walked over to stand next to Spike, who was looking down at Buffy. The only sign that the Slayer was alive was the very slight rise and fall of the white sheet. 'Do you love her? Really? Or was it all just talk?'

'How can you ask me that? You know what I've been through, what I've sacrificed for Buffy! Everything, and I mean everything, I've done in the last few years has all been about her!'

She took his hand, and placed it on one of Buffy's that was lying on top of the sheet. 'There's one more thing you've got to do for her. Even if you doubt yourself, you have to try. If I didn't really believe she loves you, then I wouldn't risk it. But I do believe it and so does Dawn, and Giles, too. They all do, really or they'd have tried to stop us. So now you ...'

Suddenly the door was flung open. They turned around and standing there, looking impossibly handsome and glowering at them magnificently, was the last person Willow wanted to see at that moment.

* * *

><p>The Immortal. 'What are you doing with cara mia? What is this you do? Why did you not tell me to come? I should be here with my Buffy.'<p>

He came marching into the room like something out of a toothpaste advert; all dark shiny hair and white teeth, dressed in clothes that screamed money. He was clearly not human, because he was too perfect, as if it were a scene from a soap opera where there was a special filter on the camera. Willow instinctively touched her hair in a girly fashion and licked her lips. She tried not to, but could not stop herself. She winced a little.

She had only met the Immortal a few times but she had soon realised that, though he certainly was not, in any way, her type, to say the least, he had this effect on everyone. Even Spike stood up a little straighter. This was what happened when you were a god and had supernatural charisma. Behind him stood Giles looking resigned and a little irritated. Mr Perfect came striding up to the bed, his locks flowing behind him as if there were a wind machine carefully directed at him. Spike bristled as the Immortal brushed him and Willow aside.

'I want to know what is going on!'

'Um, Mr ...' (What the heck did you call a god? What did Buffy call him? Did they just use romantic Italian endearments? Ugh! Yukky thought, and so not Buffy! So far she had avoided calling him anything, to his face anyway.)

'We... I...Um.' She sighed inwardly and shook herself mentally. Why did he make everyone act like adolescent fangirls around him?

'As I have already said, can we please discuss this outside? Buffy should not be disturbed.' Giles' calm voice rang out. Willow threw him a look of gratitude and then took the Immortal's arm and started walking towards the door. She glanced back at Spike who was looking at them with narrowed eyes. God, she thought, all this testosterone in this group, all wanting to be Top Dog. Thank the lord she was done with all that. Though Kennedy did rather think of herself as the Alpha Female in their relationship sometimes.

Willow gave a half smile, half grimace and hoped Spike got it. His presence would not be helpful. He hesitated for a moment as if he wanted to follow them, then he nodded and turned back to Buffy.

* * *

><p>Outside, everyone was standing, looking at the Immortal, awe and irritation on their faces in differing amounts. Giles looked around at them all with the same strained smile on his face Willow had given Spike. He was silently begging them not to get involved, to let him deal with this latest hitch in their plan. Dawn, who had become immune to the Immortal's charm, glared at him but managed not to say anything. Andrew had a star-struck expression on his face, Xander a look of 'Great, another guy in the mix who is way cooler than me.' But they all sat down again, in response to the look on Giles' face.<p>

Angel, however, was not so easily controlled. He knew about the Immortal and Buffy, but to see the man actually in front of him was hard to stomach. Also, though he would never have admitted it, his vanity was offended by the fact that he was no longer the hottest guy in the group. He was used to being the tall, dark and handsome one, the cool one and now he had serious competition. His annoyance at being so petty added to his irritation with Mr Perfect.

'What are you doing here? You know, we're very grateful for the information you found out, but your job here is done. Thanks and ciao and all that.' The vampire spoke through clenched teeth.

'What is this you are saying? Is it not true that the curse can only be broken by Buffy's true love? This is why I am here? How can you be doing this thing without me?' He clearly had his sources, too, because Giles had done his best to keep the information about the translation from the Immortal.

Xander, Angel and Dawn stood up again, all looking like they were ready for a fight. Giles quickly raised a hand, as if to ward off any trouble. 'I think we need to have a talk. Willow, would you join us?' And, gesturing with his hand back down towards the way downstairs, Giles ushered the Immortal away, Willow following behind, until the god, manners as impeccable as ever, politely waited for her to go ahead.

The three of them had barely disappeared round the bend in the corridor when the others all started talking at once. 'Who the hell does he think he ...' 'God, he is such a smarm-fest.' 'He seemed very charming to me.' 'Where does he get off...' The excited babble of voices brought Spike out of the room.

'What have you done with the God of Hairspray? I mean, Angel and I get enough flak for taking trouble over our hair, but he really is the biggest ponce in the universe. What does she see in that Nancy boy?' Sarcastic, irritated, insulting; Spike's default way of dealing with anything he couldn't handle. And better to rail at the Immortal than think of that small figure, still sleeping the sleep of the dead next door.

'Jeez, Spike, you got that right! What the hell does she see in such a plastic, over-groomed s.o.b. anyway?' It had been a long time since the two vampires had agreed on anything, but they were united in their jealousy and disdain for Buffy's beau.

'You have no idea! You should see him when he comes to pick her up! He must take hours to get ready! He's so...'

'Yeah, look at him, all chest hair and fake tan. Bet he can't pass a mirror without looking at it!'

Only Andrew did not join in. He had never felt really jealous of a man being romantically interested in Buffy, and he just wished he could look like that, effortlessly cool and handsome, always confident and smooth. He let the griping of the others wash over him and he settled back to enjoy a fantasy of himself, with beautifully tailored blazer covering a crisp white shirt, hair artlessly perfect, teeth gleaming, eyes piercingly blue, as he swept into a room where all eyes would instantly be upon him and everyone would rush over, desperate to be noticed by him. 'My name is Bond, Andrew Bond.' God, wouldn't the Immortal be perfect as 007?

And, in the next room, still Buffy waited, neither in this world or the next, as her friends tried to forget their terror and find some kind of relief in making fun of the Immortal.

* * *

><p>Downstairs, Willow was trying to explain the reality of the situation to the aforesaid god. Giles had got nowhere, the Immortal seemingly unable to believe that Buffy did not consider him to be her soulmate. They had argued in circles for a long time. So Giles had left the floor open to Willow.<p>

'I'm so sorry. I mean, you're amazing. Buffy really likes you and she thinks you are so hot and so much fun and so kind and such a perfect gentlemen...' She had to take a breath.

'But, you must know that you and Buffy are not...' She hesitated and then reached out and covered his perfectly manicured hand, which was resting on the table, with one of hers. He seemed surprised, but not offended, at her daring. Looking down at their hands, she continued.

'She and Spike have been through so much together. They've seen each other die to save the world. They've tried to kill each other and save each other more times than I can count. They've seen the best and the worst of each other. Spike got his soul back for her. Buffy stood by him when everyone else she cares about wanted him gone. What have you and Buffy had together to compare to that? Forgive me for saying this, but **he** is her Immortal, not you.'

She paused again and then looked him straight in the eye. 'Do you really, really believe she is in love with you?'

'I...' For once, his indestructible self-confidence seemed to waver. 'But of course we...'

And in the presence of the unmistakable sincerity and honesty shining from the sweet, anxious face in front of him, the Immortal closed his eyes and appeared to be thinking for a few seconds. Then he dropped his languidly cool demeanour, sat up straight and said, his normal honeyed tones and flowery words replaced by a curt, down-to-earth 'No.'

* * *

><p>Willow, nearly dropping from exhaustion, walked slowly back to Buffy's room.<p>

Outside, everyone, except Spike, was sitting back on the uncomfortable chairs, saying nothing. Their vitriol session had ended quickly, because they had not really had the heart for it. Not when compared to what was going on next door.

'So where is his Divineness? Gone to fix his hair? Or splash on a bit more aftershave?' Xander jumped on his feet, as if he could not sit still another moment.

Willow spoke in an exasperated tone unusual for her. 'Shut up, Xander. He's actually behaved pretty decently. And without him we'd never have found out what's wrong with Buffy.'

'Where is he, Will? Is he coming back?' This time it was Dawn who asked, sitting with her legs drawn up to her chin.

'I don't think so. Giles is talking to him about doing more research into Myrsina. He's offered to keep looking. You've got to give him credit for that.'

Angel, still at his endless vigil at the window, seeming to be searching for answers from the night sky, spoke. 'Why on earth should...'

Willow interrupted him. 'We don't have time for this. I'm going to go in and make sure that Spike tries the ritual. Giles wants everyone else to go downstairs and talk about how we're going to find Myrsina.'

'Shouldn't we stay up here, in case...?' Dawn's voice was very quiet.

'As soon as there's news, I'll come and get you.'

'Look, Willow. I'm getting a little tired of hanging around feeling completely useless. I am action guy, not sitting with the Scoobies awaiting orders guy. No offence, but you're not the boss of me. I need to be out there, doing something to help Buffy, not babysitting this lot! I failed to wake her up, so why the hell am I still here?' Angel's voice got louder towards the end of his speech, his frustration making him want to lash out.

Willow went to him at the window, forcing him to turn and look at her. 'If... When Buffy wakes up, you should be here. And we have to find the demon who did this. You can help with that.'

'Really, I thought she had her champion in there with her now. What do you need me for?'

'Buffy's always needed you, whatever was going on with other people in her life. You know that. You two share a connection, no matter what. You were her first love, and even if you're not her last love, no one can take that away from you. Anyway, she still needs all the friends she can get. Don't run out on her now.'

Angel stared down at the witch, whose red hair was glowing in the light from the street lamps outside. Surprisingly, he smiled at her. A tight smile that did not quite reach his eyes, but a smile nevertheless. 'Sorry. You're quite right. Buffy always said that you usually know the right thing to say, and she wasn't wrong there.' He briefly laid a hand on her shoulder and then he went down the corridor saying, 'Come on, let's go rescue Giles from the Impossible, sorry, the Immortal.'

And the others followed him, leaving Willow to go back into that room, the one they had all been trying to forget about for a while. She could not help but think that this was it, their last stand. She closed the door behind her. It was time.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:**

_**Disclaime**__r__: Not my characters, except for one._

_- I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you so much for taking the time to read it. I would love any feedback you could give me! _

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

Spike walked up to the bed and stood looking down at the motionless figure barely breathing under the sheet. Willow came to stand beside him. 'Are you ready to do this? Angel says he'll make sure that we're not interrupted again. I think it's time, don't you? We need her back.'

'I know, I know, Red. I promise, no more messing around. As long as that idiot keeps out of here. I won't be so restrained next time if I see that smarmy git in here again.'

'Spike, um, could we focus here?'

'Right, right. I'm sorry. It's been a long night and I'm knackered. Don't know what I'm saying here.'

Willow squeezed his hand and retreated to the side of the room.

He took out the paper and quietly read those ancient phrases that had proved so hard before. This time he did not falter. After reading them seven times (Willow had no clue what the correct number should be, so why not that old magical standby?), he leaned down, brushed a strand of golden hair off Buffy's face and kissed her lightly on her lips. Then he rested his forehead lightly on hers, whispering so quietly that Willow could not hear what he was saying, 'Buffy, come back to us. You know I love you. We all love you. Come back to us.'

He straightened up, his face a mask. Willow came back to his side and wordlessly took his hand. He wasn't exactly the touchy-feely type, but it felt comforting to have that contact as they stood looking down at Buffy.

A very long few minutes passed. Nothing happened. Spike let go of Willow's hand abruptly and wheeled around, stalking over to one of the plastic chairs, which he kicked over. 'I told you! I told you! What a bloody waste of time! God, what an idiot I was to think that Buffy and I were soul mates. I always knew I wasn't cut out for the Romeo role, pet!'

'We have to give it time. She's been asleep for several weeks. Maybe we shouldn't expect it to be all "poof" and then "Hey, guys, I'm baaaaack"'.

So they waited, and waited, ... and waited. Spike's face became as frozen as a block of ice. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, but still Willow's heart broke for him. For all of them. What were they going to do now?

The door opened and Giles appeared. 'What's happening? Any change?' They had come back to the room, unable to stay far away. Just in case.

'Nothing! Not a damned thing! When her lips changed before, that must've been a coincidence. Nothing to do with me! Why the hell I let you talk me into this, I don't know. I must be getting soft in the head. And now what, she sleeps for a hundred years? That's sodding great! Look what Spike did to Buffy now! I wouldn't blame the Bit if she staked me herself!'

He tried to hide his humiliation and disappointment in a show of fury. His ranting was loud enough to penetrate into the outside corridor and bring them in, Dawn in the forefront, the rest of them crowded at the back. 'What happened? Is she awake?'

'Of course she bloody well isn't awake, Bit! I can't believe I let myself get involved with this crap! Well, you've had your fun but find some other twit to...'

'SHUT UP!' No one expected such a loud voice to come from gentle Willow. 'Look at Buffy! Look!'

As if on strings, the heads of all those present swivelled towards the bed.

* * *

><p>And there she was, barely visible in the dim light, but still unmistakable.<p>

Buffy was moving.

They all rushed towards the bed and stood around it. Except for Spike who stayed just where he was, frozen to the spot.

Buffy was squirming a little under the sheet, her head tossing from side to side, an unintelligible murmuring coming from her partially opened mouth. It was as if she were having a nightmare. Dawn bent down, as if trying to hear what her sister was saying. Buffy started to get more agitated, lifting her arms up and shifting her body as if in discomfort. Giles on one side of the bed and Willow on the other held her wrists gently, to stop her pulling out the tubes.

Then, as if a light had been switched on, Buffy's eyes opened. It took her a while to focus but then she looked straight up into Dawn's eyes. 'Dawnie, I just had the weirdest dream.' Her voice was hoarse from lack of use.

Her pupils widened as she took in the group around the bed. 'Okaaaaay. Must still be dreaming.' She struggled to sit up but the effort was too much. 'What's wrong with me?' Dawn! What's wrong with me?'

* * *

><p>Giles had sent everyone home except Willow, saying that Buffy needed her sleep. Spike was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared the moment Buffy had woken up. By tacit consent no one had mentioned him to Buffy. That was a whole other conversation and they did not think she was up to that yet. The doctors had come and examined Buffy. Then gone away scratching their heads in wonder at her sudden recovery.<p>

Giles and Willow had tried to get Buffy to rest, but, with her usual stubbornness (and wasn't it just the best feeling, Giles thought, to be pointlessly trying once more to convince the Slayer to do something she was determined not to do) she had refused. 'I need to know what's going on. Why am I in hospital? What's with the Scooby reunion tour? Why on earth is Angel here?'

So they had sat with her through the rest of that long night and told her some of what they knew, carefully avoiding any mention of the way she had been awakened. She remembered eating the apple and nothing after that. Her story of meeting the old lady and the demon tied in with what they knew and seemed to confirm that they were dealing with Myrsina.

As dawn was breaking, Giles again suggested that Buffy tried to get some sleep. 'Nice try, Giles, but your story's all holey. You haven't said why Angel's here or how I woke up again. What was the cure? Why do I still feel like I just went ten rounds with a M'Fashnik demon? What aren't you telling me? Isn't a watcher supposed to be all about truth?'

Willow looked at Giles and then put her hand over Buffy's. 'You're right, Buff, there're a few more things to tell you. But we're tired, you're tired. Can't we all just get some rest and we'll continue tomorrow?'

Buffy, her face still pale and exhausted looking, smiled at her best friend. 'Point taken. I'm pretty sure I need a few years' beauty sleep after lying here for weeks. But tomorrow I want the full skinny, ok? No more angsty looks between the two of you. I want to know...' Her voice trailed off as sleep overcame her.

* * *

><p>Outside the room they found Xander. 'I thought you both needed sleep. I'll stay here and keep an eye on her.'<p>

Giles gave him a smile of approval. 'Thank you, Xander. That was very thoughtful of you.'

'Xan, please don't say anything to her about Spike if she wakes up,' said Willow beseechingly.

'Oh, yeah. I really wanna have **that** conversation with Buffy. "Hey, Buff. Looks like Willy Wannabite is your one and done after all. Do tell me where you're gonna register for the big day." Don't worry; these lips are definitely sealed on that particular topic.'

As they walked out of the hospital, the beauty of Rome, in the light of a brilliant orange and pink sunrise, the rich colours reflecting off the ancient honey and white coloured buildings, completely failed to move them. They were intent on their conversation as they made their way back to the apartment.

'Giles...' Willow's voice was hesitant. 'Er. How do you think Buffy was looking?'

'Well, rather how I'd expect after a long, supernatural coma. I certainly didn't think she'd wake up, and somersault out of the bed, ready to go patrolling, did you?'

'Noooooo. But she seems so weak. Weaker than I thought she would. I mean, it's Buffy, Amazonian Slayer Queen. She's not like the rest of us. She's got super healing powers but now she's as fragile as a kitten. And her face is still so pale. It's not normal.'

'Willow, she has only just woken up. And she wasn't suffering from something normal. We have to give her time.'

'And how're we going to tell her about Spike? Is she ready for that? I'm not sure I'M ready for that conversation.'

'Perhaps we should wait until he returns and he can tell her himself.'

'Maybe he won't come back. I mean, she's awake, he did it. Perhaps he can't face her.'

'This is Spike we're talking about. Do you really think he's going to miss the opportunity to gloat about the fact there seems to be magical proof that Buffy really does care about him? Especially to Angel.'

'That's a little unfair, Giles. This has to be HUGE for him. He's loved her for so long and now it looks like she loves him back. That's going to be hard for him to deal with.'

'Yes, well, this is not an episode of some dreadful soap opera. He will just have to 'deal' with it and find 'closure.' Isn't that the word you Americans use? We have more important things to worry about.'

When they reached the apartment, the others were still asleep camped out around the small living room or in the small bedroom. No one had wanted to use Buffy's bed, even though space was at a premium. There was no sign of Angel or Spike. The Watcher and the Witch went to bed, tired to their very bones after the events of the night. But sleep was a long time coming for both of them.

Despite his reassuring words, Giles could not suppress a twinge of doubt. He had not thought that would Buffy spring out of bed, looking her usual Californian golden girl self. However, she seemed so frail. Perhaps their expectations had been too high, or they were too used to her taking a beating, with seemingly few ill effects. This girl had survived dying, twice, so surely one little curse would be nothing? Giles tossed and turned on the sofa in Buffy's apartment, until the sheer stress and drama of the last few days proved too much, and he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

><p>Back at the hospital, Xander wandered down to the cafeteria to get something to eat. He had been sitting on one of the chairs in Buffy's room until he started thinking that, being alone in her room, watching her sleep, was a little bit creepy and stalkerish. The problem was that he had been unable to take his eyes off her. That lovely face, bright hair framing it, the delicate shape of her body under the sheet. They had been the stuff of his fantasies for a long time and a part of him would always be reserved for the Slayer. He had never completely got over his first crush on her, even after everything that had happened with Anya.<p>

As he had stood there, looking down at her, seeing that, at last, she was a more natural colour and that her breathing seemed normal, he had felt disgusted at himself for his thoughts of the night before. How could he have wanted, even for a second, for the ritual not to work? They had got Buffy back and wasn't that more important than anything else? And if Buffy and the vampire were going to be together, then it was not like they were in Sunnydale and he would have to watch the revolting spectacle of the two of them as a couple. Their lives were separate now and they rarely met.

And that would be the way he would deal with it. Distance. A great distance. And maybe he should think about dating again. It had been long enough. Anya would want him to be happy. Harbouring these feelings, these ancient, should have been mercifully killed long ago, feelings for Buffy, was probably just his way of delaying getting back into the game of real life.

After an indifferent breakfast, the usual institutionalised pap, Xander decided to go back upstairs with a large cup of coffee to help him stay awake. He would sit outside in the corridor until one of the gang arrived to relieve him. As he got closer, he saw a glow of green light coming from under Buffy's door. He was surprised as there was now enough daylight to see by. There had only been a soft nightlight on in the room when he had left it. He pushed open the door.

Inside, there was a tall figure dressed in a nurse's uniform, bending over the sleeping Buffy.

* * *

><p>'Hi, er, ciao, or something.'<p>

At the sound of Xander's voice, the woman turned. Xander gulped. Good Lord. The last time he'd been in hospital, the nurses had not looked like that! He might only have one eye, but that was enough to see that she was absolutely stunning. She looked to be about his height, with va-va-voom curves covered in the crisp white cotton of the uniform, tightly belted in the middle, like something out of a fantasy.

He managed to drag his eye away from her body and then he gulped again. Her face was flawless; so perfect, in fact, that the thought crossed his mind that she must have a damn good plastic surgeon, because she did not seem young, despite the completely smooth skin. Her features were like those on the statue of a Greek goddess. Her hair was thick, black and glossy, coiled like a snake around her shapely head. Her eyes. Xander found himself mesmerised by those large, hooded orbs, green as poison, framed by coal black, spidery lashes. She was a walking, talking, fresh out of an x-rated movie, living, breathing cliché. One that was having a predictable effect on him. His head felt light from the blood falling over itself to rush southwards. Just because something is obvious, that doesn't mean it won't work.

The woman gave him a sultry smile, showing milk white teeth between full, glistening lips, which were covered in bright red lipstick. 'Can I help you?' She spoke excellent English with a slight hint of some kind of European accent. Her voice was husky, melodious and sent chills down his spine.

It took a couple of seconds before he could get his vocal chords to work. 'I'm her friend. I mean, I'm a friend of the patient. We want to make sure that someone's here when she wakes up.'

'Well, that is charming, I'm sure. How lovely for her to have such loyal friends. But, my dear, I must ask you to wait outside for a little while. I need to run some checks on the dear young lady.'

And she walked towards Xander, put her scarlet-tipped hand on his arm and guided him back through the door into the corridor. He did not, could not resist. He could smell her perfume, an oversweet and heady mix of roses and something else, slightly musky, that he couldn't place. His senses swam with her close proximity, with the sight of the shadowed valley he could see between her milk white breasts tantalisingly revealed in her low cut dress.

He stood facing her, his mouth hanging slightly open, as she softly closed the door. He shook his head as if to clear it, let out a breath and turned back towards the chairs. He stopped suddenly, as a thousand thoughts crowded into his head at once. Later, he was to thank the powers that be for whatever instincts had kicked in at that moment.

Where had that green light come from, as there had still only been the nightlight in the room? Why were they running checks on Buffy that early in the morning? Where was the doctor? Since when did real nurses wear nail varnish? Or slutty dresses? Or look like a Playboy centrefold, except in movies? There was definitely something weird about that nurse. She was a gorgeous woman who had been nice to him... Oh God!

* * *

><p>He burst through the door. The 'nurse' was standing over Buffy. In her elegant, long-fingered hand was an evil looking dagger, the thin, glittering blade poised over the Slayer's heart. She was muttering something in an incomprehensible language.<p>

Xander's own heart stopped. He did not think, just reacted. He was still holding the cup of coffee in its paper cup. He threw it at her, not thinking he would hit her as the lack of one eye had ruined his aim. By a miracle it hit her in the back, the dark coffee staining the immaculate white uniform. It was not enough to hurt her, but she did give a shriek of surprise and half-turned. Her face was contorted with anger, no longer beautiful.

'Vile creature! How dare you disturb me! Me!' And she twisted fully, raised her hands, with the knife still grasped in one, and pointed her long, blood red talons at him. She seemed to be about to cast a spell, opening her mouth, her long red tongue darting out.

Xander picked up a chair and rushed towards her. Behind her, he could see Buffy struggling to sit up, but unable to do so. He rammed the woman with the chair just before she could get a word out, causing the dagger to fall from her grasp. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away from the bed. They grappled together near the window, with her squirming in his grasp and hissing. She was incredibly strong and he knew he would not be able to hold her long. Her face turned towards him and he recoiled. Her eyes were a solid, vicious green, glittering like a beetle's wing. Her pointed tongue snaked out and she bared her teeth, continuing to hiss at him.

One hand shot out like a striking snake and seized him by the throat. He felt her razor sharp nails digging into his skin and the pressure on his windpipe increased. No matter how he struggled he could not escape. He kept one hand holding her arm and used the other one to try to pull the hand off his throat. He could hear Buffy's hoarse, weak voice saying, 'Xander, Xander!' Black and red lights swam before his eye and he knew he was about to pass out.

Then he heard a clang and that terrible pressure was gone. He slid down the wall and forced his eye open. When he could focus, he saw Buffy, holding on to the wall next to him, a metal bed pan in her hand. The woman, if that was what she was, was slumped on the floor, unconscious.

He struggled to stand up and it was lucky that he did so, because, just as he had got upright, Buffy, white as a sheet, gave a little sigh and crumpled up. He managed to catch her before she hit the ground, and he carried her to the bed. As soon as he had placed her carefully on top of the sheets, he whipped round to see if the woman had regained consciousness.

But she had gone, as if she had never been there. The only sign was the overturned chair and the bedpan on the floor. He looked around but even the dagger was nowhere to be found. But _why?_ She could easily have attacked them, as Buffy would not have been able to save him a second time, since she was out for the count. _Well, no time to speculate about that now_. He pressed the emergency button.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Disclaime**__r: There is a zombie barman in this chapter. Can I count him as my own, because no one else is?_

_To those people still reading and especially the reviewers, thank you so much! I appreciate the feedback and it encourages me to keep going! :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

It was several hours later. Buffy had woken up, much to the relief of the others. However, she still felt incredibly exhausted, as if she had no strength. The doctor had checked her out and found nothing wrong, except this inexplicable weakness.

Giles, Willow and Angel were sitting with Buffy, looking awkwardly at each other, not sure what to say. The Slayer might be physically under par, but her stubborn determination to know the truth was not wavering. She was sitting up in bed, fire in the hazel eyes that seemed too big for her delicate, pale face.

'Guys! Enough of the stalling and the "let's not upset poor, sick Buffy"! I want to know what's been going on! No more BS! I understand that old lady cursed me. The old poison apple trick. Never saw myself as the fairy tale princess type. But how did you cure me? Did you do a spell, Willow? And who was slutty pyscho nurse? C'mon, what are you hiding from me?'

She lay back down, the effort of speaking taking all her energy. It was a frightening thing for the others to see.

Giles tried to speak reassuringly. 'The thing is, we know very little. We...'

'No, Giles. It's time we told her the truth, especially about how we woke her up.' Angel quietly but firmly interrupted the Englishman. Willow heard the bitterness in his voice, and it seemed like Buffy had picked up on it, too.

'What is it? What's wrong? Did you have to do something bad to wake me up?'

Angel gave a sardonic laugh. 'Well, you could say that, I suppose. The last thing he needs is his ego massaging. He's hard enough to control at the best of times.'

'Who are you talking about? What's going on? Please, tell me!'

Willow and Giles looked at each other, and Willow gave a tiny nod. Giles sighed and took off his glasses to polish them, to give him time to collect his thoughts.

'Right, jolly good. Let's stop all the prevaricating and tell you everything we know. Angel is right. Full disclosure is important at this point, so that we can move forward and get you well. ' He hesitated, clearly uncertain where to begin.

Willow spoke up, a little unsure of herself. 'I think, Giles, Angel should be the one to tell Buffy about..., well, you know. He knew long before we did, and maybe he has some idea about why he...'

'Yes, yes, that's a splendid idea. If Angel agrees, that is.' Giles seemed relieved to be able to pass that particular burden onto someone else's shoulders. Buffy was going to be furious and upset and goodness knows what else besides. Even in a weakened state an enraged Slayer was a formidable sight. But that wasn't it. He knew she would be hurt by the revelations about Spike, and, after everything she had been through, he was not sure he could stand seeing her in more pain.

Angel nodded in silent agreement. Willow smiled reassuringly and said, 'We'll just get a drink or something, and we'll be back soon.' Then she and Giles left the room.

* * *

><p>Angel helped Buffy to sit upright and gave her some water to drink. He then stood up and started pacing around the room, looking too big for the small room, with all the pent up emotion inside him.<p>

Buffy's quiet voice sounded loud in the room. 'Angel. Please. Sit down and tell me. All this is making me scared. What did you all do? Can't be worse than when the Scoobies pulled me out of heaven!'

She was trying to make light of the situation but inside she was panicking. Why were they all acting like this? What could they have to say to her that was so bad? Maybe this weakness was permanent and she was going to end up bedridden for the rest of her life? 'ANGEL. Tell me NOW!' Her voice was high and sharp with fear.

The vampire came, sat down by the bed and took her hand. The cool touch of his skin was somehow reassuring and worrying at the same time, a feeling echoed by the look on his face as he gazed at her. It was the strangest mixture of anger, trepidation and pity.

So she squeezed his hand and said, 'Hey, c'mon. We've been through a lot together, and I mean **a lot**. So just spit it out. I won't get mad.'

'Yeah, cross your heart, and all that? Because I highly doubt you're going to like what I've got to say.'

'Angel!'

He sat there for the longest while, eyes focused on their intertwined hands. Then he pulled his shoulders back and looked her straight in the eye. 'It's about Spike.'

* * *

><p>They had been talking for over an hour. Buffy probably would have been shouting for a lot of it, if she had had the strength. For the vampire, it had been like a stake in the heart when he had seen the myriad of emotions passing over her face after she had finally taken in the fact that Spike was back and somewhere in the same city as her.<p>

She had gone from shock to disbelief to anger to hurt and back again to anger, always a safe place for Buffy to deal with whatever life threw at her. But among those understandable feelings, Angel had seen fleeting glimpses of hope and wonderment and perhaps even joy. He would not think about the word love.

When he had explained the circumstances of the ritual and what it could mean for Spike and her, Buffy had reddened and then shut her eyes, as if blocking out the information. 'Are you sure that's what it means? Could you all be wrong about the curse?

'Maybe, but Buffy, I couldn't wake you up, and old William there could. Gotta mean something. Or do you think it's impossible that you could lo..., still have feelings for him? You told me once that he was in your heart, you know.'

'Yes, I...' She stopped, fury and pain clearly etched on her face. 'How could he do that to me? All this time and I thought he was gone. How could you not tell me...'

She couldn't go on. Tears welled up and she covered her face with her hands. Angel put his arms around her and let her cry. Her tears were always disturbing because she was such a strong person. But it was as if the dam had burst. He let her sob, all the pent up emotions of the last few months, hell, the last few years, pouring out of her. She was not strong enough to keep it up for long and soon she gave a few deep sighs and then relaxed in his arms.

'Sorry, Angel. Don't know what came over me.'

He gently wiped her face with a tissue and then laid her back down on the pillows. 'I think we've talked enough for now. Get some rest and then we can ...'

She interrupted him. 'Where is he now? Why isn't he here? Doesn't he want to see me?' She stumbled a little over the last few words.

Angel hated the plaintive note in her voice, mixed with the anger. God, she **was **in love with that damned blond idiot. Would he ever be able to accept that? The look on Buffy's face made Angel want to smash something with his fists, preferably a face with ridiculously prominent cheekbones.

'He disappeared when you woke up. I know, I know. Typical Spike. But I doubt he's gone far. He won't be able to resist finding out if you're ok. He'll be back, once he can be sure he can appear all cool and uncaring again. All about appearances, you know Spike.'

She gave a wan smile and then her eyelids closed, exhaustion winning.

* * *

><p>Angel waited until night time. The others had been in and out of the hospital all day. Buffy had talked to Willow a little about Spike, but the rest of them had avoided the subject. Andrew had had a short, private conversation with her. He would not say what had gone on, but he had come out of the room looking pale but relieved, as if he had faced a fearsome demon but had somehow survived. Only to Dawn did he whisper. 'She's forgiven me for not telling her. The Slayer has a noble heart.'<p>

The rest of them took it in turns to sit with Buffy, play Scrabble with her, take her magazines and fruit, while doctors came and did more pointless tests. No one talked about the fact that she did not seem to be getting any stronger, and that the dark circles under her eyes remained. She had looked healthier when she was in the coma. Dawn and Willow went back to the few books and manuscripts they had. Had they missed something? At least two of them stayed with her at all times, with weapons carefully hidden in backpacks. Who knew if there would be any more attacks on her? Willow put a protection spell on the room, but she was not convinced that it would work.

Once twilight had driven the sun away from the city, Angel went on the hunt. He knew a few places where the likes of demons and vampires could hang out in Rome. It took a while, and a visit to some pretty unsavoury places, but eventually he found the other vampire, in a monsters only bar in a disused crypt in the oldest part of the city.

The bar was dank, cold and carved out of ancient stone which was covered in green and brown lichen. It was full of mysterious shadows and hidden corners. Water dripped down the walls and the only light was from huge, dirty yellow candles attached to massive wrought iron sconces on the walls. The counter was made of oak so old it had gone black and was harder than steel. It was covered in scratches and gouges, the relics of innumerable bar fights over the years. Weapons of all kinds covered the walls.

'What a cliché,' he thought in exasperation. Then he spotted Spike, bent over a large glass of what looked like whisky, sitting alone at the bar, a large bottle in front of him. The chairs either side of him were empty, despite the fact the bar was packed. The blond vampire was radiating so much pent up fury and bitterness that even that tough crowd did not want to mess with him.

'Why do the undead and the evil always have to spend their time in gloomy, smelly, damp holes in the ground? What's wrong with a bit of luxury? Being dead doesn't mean you have to be dirty or uncomfortable.' Angel sat down next to Spike and spoke very matter-of-factly, just like any two guys in a bar making conversation. He resisted the temptation to break Spike's nose and beat his face to a pulp. He was proud of his self-control.

'What the hell do you want, Captain Forehead? Come to have a go at me, be all self-righteous and pompous? I do not want to hear it. Leave me and this bottle of spectacularly awful whisky to continue getting to know each other.'

* * *

><p>Spike had clearly been drinking for a while. He was that place where drunkenness goes full circle back to icy sobriety. There wasn't enough alcohol in the world to make him forget what had gone on in the last couple of days. To drown out the mixture of terror and hope that the ritual had planted in his dead heart.<p>

Angel counted to ten in his head and tried to maintain his calm tone of voice.

'What are you doing here? Buffy...Buffy's been asking after you.' No one would ever know what it had cost him to say that. It was so tempting to play on Spike's insecurities and paranoia and make sure that he left Italy without ever seeing Buffy. Maybe that would be the best thing for all concerned, instead of opening up old wounds. He clenched his jaw. Perhaps it would be best, but that wasn't his call to make.

Some of the whisky slopped out of the glass. Spike very carefully put down the drink. Without looking at Angel, he said, in a voice devoid of all emotion, 'So she knows. How'd she take the news of my happy return from the beyond?'

'How do you think? She's not exactly ready to throw you a welcome back party.'

Spike gave a bitter laugh. 'Well, there's a surprise. I thought she and the Bit would have got the caterers in and everything.'

Angel could stand it no longer. 'Do you have to be such a jackass? I mean, what the hell's your problem? I'd have thought you'd be the one throwing an "I told you do" party, just so you could gloat.'

'How do you figure that, mate?' Spike put a world of sarcasm into that last word, and Angel's palms itched with the effort of not balling his hands into fists.

'The universe has spoken! Buffy and Spike are meant to be! You did it, you woke her up. Magical proof that you're it for her. Why aren't you in her room, making cow eyes at her, planning your perfect future with her?'

'You're kidding me, right? Do you really think it's that simple? Even if she forgives me for being in LA all this time without telling her, what kind of future do we have together? All the problems we had in Sunnydale haven't gone into the hole along with the town! And as for that bloody ritual! We're not sure about anything yet. I don't want Buffy to feel obliged to me, or think she has to pretend to...'

'God, get over yourself! You woke her up! Doesn't that mean anything to you? You know your problem? You're nothing but a coward! That's why you've been hiding out in LA, afraid to face her.'

'I thought it was best to let things be, for her sake!'

'That's a crock and you know it!'

The other creatures in the bar had edged even further away. The zombie bartender was pretending not to notice anything, giving some glasses the drying of their life down at the end of the counter, as far away from the two vampires as possible.

Spike and Angel were now standing facing each other, the tension between them palpable. Not only that, the other monsters in the crypt could smell the souls in these two, as well as the fact that they were vampires. That combination in one undead creature was unnerving enough, but to have two of them in the same place was unbelievable and shocking. Who knew what such demons could do?

For Angel and Spike, the temptation to go into vampire mode and just settle their differences old style was almost impossible to resist. A good bar fight was just what they both needed right now. Violence and destruction were so much better than 'talking about your feelings'. They were demons, weren't they? So enough of the Doctor Phil crap and they could work it out with their fists.

Angel, however, knew that this was not the time, even if it was the perfect place, for a brawl.

He sat down on the stool, picked up the whisky bottle and poured a generous amount into Spike's glass. He gestured to the barman to bring him one, too. Then he lifted up the two glasses and held one out to Spike, who looked for split second like he was going to go for Angel's throat. Then he too thought better of it and took the drink. They both took a large swig, shuddering at the battery acid taste of it.

'There's something you don't know.' Angel sounded hesitant.

'What? Christ, what now? Is it Buffy?'

'Yes, the thing is... yeah, you woke her up but we're not out of the woods yet.'

And he explained about Buffy's continuing weakness and the attack by the nurse, whom they thought must have been Myrsina or one of her minions, if they were on the right track.

When Spike had heard what Angel had to say, his mouth set in a thin, bitter line. 'See, I told you all. This whole business of soul mates is crap. Ok, maybe she cared about me enough for me to wake her up, but not enough to cure her completely. So what's the point of me going back there?' He sounded petulant, even to his own ears.

'Jesus, Spike, what are you, 13 years old, sitting in a field pulling petals off a daisy going, "She loves me, she loves me not"? Why is everything always about poor little Spikey and his hurt feelings? This is BUFFY we're talking about! She's sick and in danger. Do you want to sit in a corner and lick your wounds, feeling sorry for yourself, or do you want to help?'

Spike did not answer for a long time, clearly wrestling with his emotions. For once in his life, his better half won. 'Yes, I'm a jackass.' He sat up straighter, put the drink down and turned to look at Angel. 'So what now? What can we do?'

Angel drained his glass and said, a twisted smile on his face, 'You know, I have no idea, and neither does anyone else. Well, not the first time that's happened. C'mon. I'm taking you back to the hospital. Time to face the music, William.'

And, putting some money on the counter top, they left the bar, leaving a relieved crowd behind them.

* * *

><p>Once they had made their way back to the hospital, Angel left Spike with Willow who, having found time for a nap that morning, had taken the night shift on Buffy watch, along with Andrew. The witch went into the room and came back saying, 'She's still asleep. I think you'll have to wait until morning. We really shouldn't disturb her. Andrew, go and get some coffee, please.' Andrew, who was clearly dying to hear what Spike had to say, ready for another episode of the vampireslayer soap opera, pouted, but went trotting off.

'So what went wrong, Red? Why isn't she all up and ready to kick some demon ass? Was it my...'

Willow quickly interrupted him. 'We don't know if anything went wrong. It's still early days. She might just need time to heal. It was a serious bit of magic; it was bound to take its toll on her.'

'You know what I mean. Maybe, maybe you were wrong about Buffy and me.' She could hardly hear what he was saying, his voice was so low.

She answered him patiently. 'No one else was able to wake her up, not even Angel. And we know she loved him, and still does, in some way. Only you managed it, and that's got to mean something. If she didn't love you, what about the sleeping for a hundred years thing? Why didn't that happen?'

'Perhaps she's going to slip back into a coma. Perhaps it takes time for the curse to work.'

'She doesn't seem to be getting any worse, just not any better. I think we're missing something. Maybe the curse is more complicated than we thought. Or maybe there were two parts to it and we don't know about it yet. We don't have a lot to go on.'

'We need to find that bloody demon! Let me go and ask around. I'll find her if it's the last thing I do!'

'We should find her. But first you have to talk to Buffy.'

He gave a ghost of a smile. 'I'd rather face the demon. Is she really mad at me?'

'I think she's mad and shocked and hurt. But I also think that, deep inside, she's so happy that you're back, or at least she will be, once she's gotten over the mad bit.'

He smiled gratefully at her, and then they sat down to wait out the rest of the night.

Just as dawn was breaking, when Spike had had to retreat further up the corridor to avoid the searching rays of the early morning sun, a nurse came to check on Buffy. Willow went into the room with her. Andrew tried to think of something to say to engage Spike in conversation, but the vampire's whole attention was on that open door. In the end, all he could say was, 'Spike, she always loved you. She just was never ready to say it.' And he walked away, leaving Spike looking after him in surprise, as he'd forgotten that the boy was even there.

Then Willow came back out after the nurse. 'She's awake. Time to go in now, Spike.'

She could see him standing there, his body rigid with the effort of not trembling, of not showing what this moment meant to him.

Finally, he would get to talk to Buffy again, to look into those eyes, to smell that Buffy scent. Things which had haunted his dreams every single night since he had first rematerialised in LA. He was not sure if he could bear it.

Spike walked through the door, and carefully closed it behind him.


	9. Chapter 9

****_A/N_: ****

****_Disclaimer_****: Don't own anything.

Ok, I have changed this a lot since I first posted it. I changed it a few thousand times, actually. Still not sure about it!

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><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

Spike stood by the door letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. In the bed, Buffy was propped up by several pillows**. **Her face was turned towards the door. They were separated by a few feet of scuffed linoleum and a thousand miles of history and baggage and feelings. The seeming fragility of Buffy's slender body hidden under the sheets was belied by the fearsomeness of the light blazing out of her eyes. Even across the room he could see the anger and hurt and God knows what else besides, all concentrated in the blinding look she was giving him.

_He walked slowly towards the bed. As he got closer, her gaze faltered and she closed her eyes. He could see a glistening tear escape and roll slowly down her pale cheek. Without speaking, he sat down on the chair next to the bed, and gently took her hand. Her eyes flew open and she whispered, so faintly he could hardly hear it. 'Oh, Spike. I've missed you so. Thank God you have come back to me at last.' There was a world of love and forgiveness in those luminous hazel eyes, shining with tears and joy. The vampire bent his head and, with infinite tenderness, kissed those soft, pink, trembling..._

_God, you are so pathetic!_ Spike's voice resonated inside his head. The alluring vision, which had flashed into his mind as he stood there, vanished. As if the touching reunion scene was going to play out like that. Not in this vampire's lifetime, which could possibly be a bloody long time!

And as they both stayed where they were, saying nothing, another picture flashed before him.

Of him walking towards the bed. He would sit down and look at her for a long moment. Then he would say, 'I'm sorry, Buffy. Please believe me, I never meant to hurt you. I thought it was all for the best.' And she would smile sweetly at him and then, even though it took all of her strength, she would pull back her arm and punch him viciously on the nose, breaking it for the third (? - he'd lost track) time. And this alternate version of their reunion actually rather pleased him because it would be a return to normality. Or at least their normality; he had learnt not to ask for anything more than that, because, after all, wouldn't he give anything to have one more day with her in Sunnydale, even if it meant she was kicking him from here to kingdom come? At the moment, Buffy looked incapable of getting out of bed, let alone kicking anyone.

He started to feel fury building up inside him. Anything rather than dwell on Buffy's current state of health. Why didn't she say something? He had come all this way and damn well saved her life, and not for the first time, so why the silent treatment? Didn't she realise that, according to the curse, he was her true love?

The thought of it terrified him so much and yet filled him with such a dazzlingly bright spark of joy, that he smothered it with cynicism and anger, those old favourites of his. The torments of hell (and he knew something of those) would have been insufficient to get him to mention the whole soul mates theory to her first. Let her bring up the miraculous healing powers of his kiss. Wild horses couldn't drag it out of him.

He clenched his fists tightly at his sides.

For a long, long time, neither of them moved or said anything. They were both unsure where to start because an eternity might not be enough to say all that needed to be said, and yet, what could they say? They had lost each other to save the world and that had been okay. It had been worth the price. So where to go on from there? They knew that they were willing to give each other up and so what more could they say to each other? Because shouldn't true love be worth more than the world? So if it wasn't true love, what was it? And how had Spike woken Buffy up if it wasn't? It had always been complicated between them and how was now going to be any different?

All these questions swirling round, all the possible answers shouting at them in their heads.

And that cruel little voice in his head continued to whisper to him of another universe, a parallel world where this scene was playing out so differently. Where, after some anger and recriminations and the 'Why Spike, whys?', Buffy was weeping tears of joy at his return, and all was forgiven. And the scene would end on a kiss amid a sweeping crescendo of violins. In that parallel place where fantasies came true. And the voice gave a sardonic laugh and said, 'There is NOWHERE in this universe or any of the billions of others in this multidimensional existence of ours where that would happen!' More likely was the 'Buffy breaking his nose and then beating him to a bloody pulp' scenario, once she was well again. Now that he could really see happening.

And still they said nothing. The silence outside was a perfect counterpoint to the storms going on inside both of them.

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><p>Buffy stared at the still figure by the door, furious that she could not leap out of bed and tell him just what she thought of him the best way she knew how; through that violent ballet at which they had been so good. She could not think of what to say or how to start this scene. And she clenched her fists on top of the sheet, in a unconscious echo of the vampire.<p>

She was so angry at him. How could he have been back for so many months without a word? Did he have any idea what she had been through since Sunnydale?

All the sleepless nights, the terrible dreams from which she woke with nothing but a bottomless pit of loss inside her. All those months of trying to be ok, to be normal, for Dawn's sake. Her complete lack of desire to get involved with the Council and do something really worthwhile. Those hedonistic, pointless months of shopping and dating and occasional patrolling, just so she felt like she was doing something. A stalled life. That's what it had been like. And she had known, somewhere deep inside her, unacknowledged and unaccepted, the truth behind it all.

It had been because she was still grieving for Spike. It had taken her so long to tell herself and him that she loved him. But, once the words were out there, it was like the dam had burst. In the days after Sunnydale she had ached for the vampire, an ache deep in her bones, in her soul. He had become, so gradually that she had never seen it happen, such a vital part of her life, of what gave her strength and comfort and the will to go on.

Those last few nights when she had slept in his arms had helped her do what she needed to do. She had given him the amulet saying it had to be worn by a champion. She had meant someone who could save the world, but now she realised that he had been the greatest champion she had ever had and that he had saved her. And that was despite their terrible history and all the appalling things he had done or tried to do to her.

So she had lain awake, night after night, thinking that she would never be warm again without those pale, strong, cool arms around her.

And then, with characteristic Buffy pragmatism, she had tried to push it all aside and just get through the days. She had started dating the Immortal and talking to Giles about what her next step should be. She had told herself that everything was going to be fine. But she had never let the Immortal get beyond a goodnight kiss, and she had kept telling Giles that she was weighing her options and hadn't made a decision yet. All the time she had been waiting for something, without knowing what it was.

And now she wondered if some part of her had known that the vampire was back. Yes, that was ridiculous, but seeing him now, as full of rage as she was, as ill as she was, still she felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her chest and she could finally draw a deep breath and fill her lungs. All these months of shallow breathing were over.

Watching him standing there, an inscrutable expression on his face, she wanted so badly to touch his face that it was a physical ache inside her. She wanted to run her hand over those pointed cheekbones, that smooth, cold, white skin, that still madly bleached hair. She could see those eyes, the colour of a summer sky, a sky that he had not been able to stand under for over a century, boring into her. His firm mouth was set hard. She shivered at the sudden memory of what those lips could do, had done, to every part of her.

And, with a sudden, dazzling, ray of insight, she knew that, even if she ranted and raved at him for not coming to her as soon as the powers that be returned him to this world, even if she never understood why he had not done so, even if she beat him to a pulp at the first opportunity, even if there was no future for them; well, despite all of that, she knew that she would forgive him, in the end. Maybe she wouldn't tell him this, because the son of a bitch deserved to suffer, but the sight of him filled her with such a fierce, blazing joy that the little poisonous shoots of fury and disappointment and shock, and all those other negative feelings he'd conjured up, shrivelled into nothingness. But he did not need to know that yet. First, he had some explaining to do.

'William.'

'Slayer.'

And at last he started to walk towards the bed.

* * *

><p>'I..'<p>

'You.'

They both spoke at the same time. Buffy tried again. 'Sit down, Spike.'

He sat on the chair next to her bed. As he looked down at that familiar face which had come between him and his sleep every night in all the years since he had first met her, he felt himself give a little, involuntary sigh. Whatever happened, he was with Buffy. And that was all he had wanted for longer than he could remember. However, he was determined not to show her any weakness. He had no idea what was going on in her mind, but he had had enough of acting like a lovesick puppy.

But all his bravado, his determination to stay in control, his carefully created sense of being hard done by, wavered as he looked into her brilliant green eyes, which seemed too large and bright in her thin, white face. He pushed his hands deep into his jacket pocket to stop himself wrapping his arms around her and never letting her go. How could he still love her with every atom in his body? How could that tsunami of emotion still wash over him when he found himself looking at her? Would he never be free? Would he want that, even if it were possible?

He kept a neutral expression on his face, using all the control he had. But he looked away sooner than she did, because he knew his eyes would be telling her the whole story. And maybe she would be disgusted and he couldn't bear that.


	10. Chapter 10

****_Disclaimer_****_: Don't own anything_

_****_A/N_****: - To make it clear, from now on is the completely new part. I am SO sorry it has taken me this long to complete it, for all those people who put it on alert. I just got really stuck. And I am still not entirely happy with it. Plot is the hardest part of fiction writing! But I did not want to be one of those people who leave stories unfinished on Fanfic! So here it is, for what it's worth. Thank you for sticking with it this far. _

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

Buffy pulled herself slowly up in the bed, grateful that he had the tact not to try to help her. She needed to be more on a level with him, not laying there having him look down on her. She needed to regain some sense of control, because each beat of her heart, each in and out of her lungs, was like a little voice telling her that she should throw herself into his arms and stay there forever. She dropped her gaze and gripped the bed sheet as tightly as her poor strength would allow, to stop her hands from reaching out for him. Then she risked another quick glance at his face. He looked as if he were carved out of marble, except for those eyes. And what she saw shining out of those cerulean blue depths made her clutch the sheet even harder.

She huffed out the air she did not realise that she had been holding.

'Spike.' She cleared her throat and then drank some water. She needed her voice to sound stronger than that. She took a deep breath and tried to speak in her best tough chick Slayer voice.

'Spike. I could shout at you or give you a hard time about everything. I'm as mad as hell and, when this is all over, I really think I'm going to have to kick your sorry English ass for what you did to me. But we need to solve this. I'm so over this whole lying in hospital looking pale and interesting thing. I want my life back and you need to help me.'

Spike relaxed just a little._ Good, stroppy Slayer is so much easier to deal with than dying Camille Buffy. _

'Ok, Slayer, enlighten me as to what exactly you're so upset about? Yeah, I didn't tell you I was back. But it's not like you didn't get on perfectly fine without me. Look at your cosy little life in Italy, all espresso, fashion, old things, and a hot new guy. Doesn't look like you were exactly pining for me.'

'Who said anything about pining? But I thought we were friends, kind of. I saved your butt more times than you can count up to, so don't you think it would have been polite to drop me a line or email me, or give me a call, whatever, to say you were back from whatever hell dimension you'd ended up in? Don't you think you have some explaining to do?' Buffy was amazed at how calm she sounded.

'Actually, Angel and I did pay you a call a while back, but you were kind of busy with Pretty Boy, so….Anyway, Slayer, but I'm not sure that this is the time or the place. We've got a demon to deal with.'

'It's not like I'm going anywhere, is it? I'm pretty much a captive audience, and I know that's something you always quite liked: people who are forced to listen to you.'

He ignored her jibe. 'Let's get on with this, then. What do you want to know?' He raised one eyebrow at her, a bored expression on his face, as if he hadn't a care in the world. She was not fooled for a second.

'Really, that's how you're going to play it? Well, let's see, we could talk about the fact that you came back from whatever hell dimension you were in and failed to let me know. Or the fact that you were the only one who could wake me up. Hmmm, that could be an interesting topic of conversation. Willow did tell me about the curse, you know, and how it had to be broken.'

He ignored the first part of her speech. He was not sure if he could explain that to her, not yet.

'Yes, well, it wasn't exactly a miracle cure we'd all been hoping for, was it? You're not quite ready to slay vamps again, are you? So let's not hold hands and plight our troth just yet.'

'To be honest, I'm not sure that any of you've got the right idea about this curse. The whole thing seems ridiculous to me.'

And she did not fail to see that she had wounded him with that comment, even if the wince of pain only lasted for a nanosecond. Inside, she felt a petty little glow of satisfaction at this tiny revenge.

* * *

><p>As they sniped at each other, neither could resist lightning fast glances at the other, when they thought they wouldn't be noticed. The air between them was stretched thin, like a wire that could snap at any moment, with the force of their need to touch each other. A force both were not ready to bend to, not yet. But, oh, to be this close. They could smell each other's unique aroma. See the never forgotten, familiar shape of head and body. The arguing, banter, call it what you will, the old Buffy and Spike back and forth, continued for a while. But it was all such BS, they both knew that. The air crackled with the weight of all the unsaid words flying between them. They hungered for each other but neither knew how to admit to that, how to find a way to make that work.<p>

Buffy's hand lay on the counterpane, a few inches from where Spike, seemingly unconsciously, was pulling at a thread on the cover, looking at it as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. She glanced down at their two hands; hers, slender, small, delicate. His, long-fingered, white, shapely. Both as strong as death, under normal circumstances. She felt that she would not be surprised to see a small bolt of electricity streak between them, so powerful was her sense of his physical closeness.

'God knows, Slayer, I tried to tell Willow and Giles and all the rest the exact same thing, but they wouldn't listen.' He carefully kept his voice as casual as a light summer breeze. Let her think he was fine; he could, he would, control the raging torrent inside him.

'I'm pretty happy about that. 'Cos you did wake me up, didn't you?'

He looked up suddenly at the brittle tone in her voice. Her eyes were shut, she was leaning back against the pillows and her shoulders were down, set in a defeated line at odds with her falsely bright manner.

He couldn't do it anymore. Keep up the pretence. Here he was, so close to Buffy he could see the fine tracery of her eyelashes touching her cheeks as her eyes remained closed. Something he never thought he would get to experience again. What the hell was he doing, acting like such a jerk?

Tantalisingly slowly, as if he were afraid she was an incorporeal spirit conjured up to drive him mad by forever being out of reach, he moved his hand towards hers. When they were a hairs-breadth apart, she opened her eyes, seeming to sense his proximity. She looked down but did not move her hand, either closer or further away. Time was suspended, held its breath, waited.

Then she closed the tiny gap, so that her finger tips were brushing his, with the barest whisper of contact. He could hardly feel that they were touching. But they were.

He moved his hand to cover hers and then took her hand properly, fingers entwined with hers.

They did not look at each other, but sat there. Time stayed still, not daring to move.

Spike bent down and brushed his cool lips over the back of her fingers, then rested his forehead on their joined hands.

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><p>Buffy felt as if she had been underwater, where everything was suffocating and muffled and dark. Then suddenly she was lifted up to the surface, into the sunlight, where there was air and she could hear and see clearly, for the first time for many months. She huffed out the air she did not realise that she had been holding. She had thought she wanted to punish him, but enough games. She knew she was very ill and who knew how much time the two of them had? So many months, weeks, days, hours, seconds lost to them already. She would punish him sometime.<p>

But not right now.

She rested her other hand on that over-bright head of hair and waited.

After a time, but neither could have said how long, Spike sat up. Still holding on to her hand, he cleared his throat, though his voice soundly unusually husky. 'I think I need to explain.'

He tried to tell her why he had kept away, why he had never tried to contact her. He was still not completely sure himself of his reasons but he tried to make her see that he had been so uncertain of her feelings for him, so determined not to hurt her again, so convinced that they had no future. 'But I'm not trying to make myself out to be a saint or a martyr, love. Well, not much.' He laughed sardonically; the sound was a little rusty, but it was a start.

Eventually, they had said as much on that topic as they could for now. Buffy was still not sure she had the full picture. But when had Spike ever been one to share? She would get it out of him eventually. Because she knew in her heart that there would be time, that she would find a way to make time, for there to be an 'eventually'. Once she had found the way to forgive him. Once she had had the time to forget all the pain of the last few months. As long as she could regain her strength, then she would find the way.

Something brittle and angry and sharp that had been between them, a glass wall of anger and bile, had been broken. She had no idea what would happen between them. But she knew that they would move forward, even if at a glacial pace. Because the alternative was unbearable and having him back was too precious a chance to waste.

Now they had to get her better.

'But, Spike, what about the curse? How did you manage to wake me? Why am I still sick? C'mon, we can't avoid that elephant in the room forever.'

Abruptly, he let go of her hand, which he had kept hold of possessively since he had first had the courage to touch her. Where the hell would this conversation lead?

She smiled a little and took his hand herself. 'We're going to talk this out sensibly and logically. We don't have to get all gooey and soppy about it. But we need to talk about it.'

He took in a lungful of unneeded air and said, unable to look at her as he did so, 'Well, according to what the Scoobies think, what's between us is true love. Otherwise the curse ...'

* * *

><p>It wasn't long before the conversation petered out. They tried to talk it all out sensibly but little of it made sense, and their heads were too full of the sensation of being together once more to be able to think rationally. And Buffy's strength did not last long. In the middle of a sentence, she started coughing violently, and ended up bent double over the bedspread. Immediately, Spike leapt up, put his arm round her to help her lie back and used the other hand to pick up the glass of water and hold it to her lips. She sputtered and gasped, but the water helped and she was able to lift her head up. As she did so, she lifted her hand to take the glass from his, and her fingers brushed his. At that same moment, their gazes met. The feel of skin on skin, the dizzying meeting of bright blue and hazel, made the rest of the universe fade away. All the words could wait. They seemed unimportant right then.<p>

Neither moved or said anything for what seemed like aeons. Then Spike, never taking his eyes off her, took the glass from her hand and put it down on the bedside table. He was working on instinct alone because his mind was empty of all words except the one that held all the meaning in the world for him. _Buffy. Buffy_. He slowly moved his head closer so that his forehead was resting on hers. His hands were gentle on her shoulders. Slayer and vampire were so near they could see the flecks in each other's irises. Then, at exactly the same moment, their eyes closed.

They stayed like that, completely still, not thinking, not making a sound. Their senses were filled with the long remembered, long forgotten, scent and texture of each other. His skin felt cool and firm against hers. Her skin felt warm and smooth against his. 'I missed you.'

Who actually said it? It didn't matter. They both felt the same, so who cared where the words came from?

Reluctantly, Spike lifted his head and looked back into Buffy's eyes. She lifted a hand and cupped his cheek, like she had once, all those months ago, on the last night of their old lives. Wincing slightly at the effort, she scooted over in the bed to make room for him beside her.

'Will you just hold me?' She smiled very slightly, wondering if he would remember the last time she had said those words to him. She should not have doubted it. He sometimes thought he would be able to recall every word of every conversation they had ever had, so deeply ingrained in his mind and body was she.

She felt nervous, tense, scared he would refuse. Because who wanted to start all that again? _I do, I do_, that tiny, terrible voice of truth whispered inside her.

He looked at her with ….. what? Shock, affection, anger, fear? What was he thinking? For a few seconds he looked stony faced. Then he grinned; that wicked, outrageous, sexy Spike smile that always used to make her want to punch him and kiss him all at the same time.

Smarter than usual, he refrained from making some wisecrack. He stood up and quickly divested himself of his leather jacket. The way the taut muscles in his arms moved made Buffy, tired and weak as she was, feel that old flutter in her stomach. Boy, if she were fighting fit, then she might not have been able to be responsible for her actions. Maybe this weakness had its upside.

And then, there he was, at her side. It seemed impossible that it was happening and yet impossible that she had managed all this time without this. He put an arm around her; she laid her head on his chest, and held his other hand in hers. They did not speak, because words suddenly seemed paltry things that could not possibly convey what needed to be said. They held each other in silence. But the silent words continued to flow between them, saying what they could not. Buffy, her cheek resting on smooth cotton, and firm muscle, settled herself more comfortably, clutched his hand a little tighter, and fell into a deep, natural, peaceful sleep. Spike kissed her forehead softly, and he, too, slept. Time enough to find the solution. Now they just needed to be. Together.


	11. Chapter 11

****_Disclaimer_****: Don't own anything.

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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

Willow, coming into the room a while later, stopped abruptly when she saw the two of them sleeping in each other's arms. _Ohhhhhhh!_ She thought. _Thank God_. Then she turned round and quietly tiptoed back outside. There, she sat herself down on one of the plastic chairs and took out the book she was reading. No one was getting in that room, not for a while yet. Not if she had anything to do with it!

It was still dark when Spike woke up, with that vampire's innate instinct for when it was dawn or dusk. They had left the blinds open, so the room was still dark; though he could see the faintest pink light coming from outside. His chin was resting on the Slayer's golden head, which gleamed even in the darkness, and both his arms were around her. Her hand was resting on his stomach, under his t-shirt. He decided he would have to try to move away from her, without waking her, so he could pull down the blinds before the sun came in and reduced him to a not so attractive pile of Spike dust. He had thought she was still asleep so he gulped when that delicate hand began tracing small circles on his abdomen. Round and round that slender finger went. Then it moved southwards and traced its way around his navel. _If I were a breathing man_, he thought to himself, _this is where I would stop breathing._

'Buffy?'

'Hmm?' This was said in a sleepy voice that sent a jolt of electricity straight to his groin.

'What are you doing?'

'Nothing.' The finger moved a little further south. Spike laid his hand on top of hers to halt its progress.

'Doesn't feel like nothing!'

'Just…. I'm just…. remembering.'

'Remembering what?'

There was silence. Then she spoke in a very quiet voice. 'Remembering what your body feels like.'

His head lifted up at that, but she was still resting hers on his chest, her eyes firmly shut. _Right._

When he had given his vocal chords a chance to start working again, he spoke, equally quietly, afraid loudness would shatter this fragile moment they were having. 'Er…. So…, that's something you want to think about right now?'

'Why not?'

'Ahh. Well, uh, um…..'

'You sound like Giles when one of us talks about sex.'

_Oh, God. She did not just say the s-word, while her hand is this close to…..!_

'Spike, I couldn't wrestle a mouse to take its cheese at the moment, so please don't get any ideas. I'm in no shape for anything…. _strenuous_.'

'…' His mind went blank, apart from certain images from their past together.

She removed her hand from under his and moved it back up his torso, coming to rest on his chest, still under his t-shirt.

'Buffy! Could you stop doing that?'

'Why? I'm not hurting anyone.'

'I thought you were mad at me?'

'Well, I am, but I'm in no condition to show you either how furious I am at you, or how much I've missed you. So let's just rest.'

'The meds must be getting to you. Did you just say you missed me?'

'You must have heard me wrong.'

He felt the movement of her head as it tilted upwards. So he looked down and this time her eyes were open. They were full of mischief, yet the dark circles under them were not better, and he felt his heart contract with love for her. She thought she might be dying, she had thought he was dead, and yet, here she was, teasing him once more. He felt his eyes sting with unshed tears.

'Spike, don't be such a sap. I'm not a goner yet, and you're going to help me make sure it doesn't happen.'

'I…. I'm not sure I can.' He closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

'Spike, look at me. Look at me!'

Reluctantly he did so. She moved so that their heads were nearly on a level. Their noses were almost touching, and he could feel her warm breath on his skin. He shivered, just a little, and the tiniest of smiles touched her lips when she felt that almost imperceptible vibration.

She whispered into his mouth, with that little uplift of her lips softening the words, 'Don't think I've forgotten that you let me mourn for you all these months. Don't think there won't be consequences for that. But right now, we have a bigger problem, so retribution can wait. Do you understand that?'

'Yes. Ok, I get it. So what…'

But he did not get to finish his question because Buffy pushed herself just a little further so that her lips came into contact with his. At the first taste of each other, she sighed and he groaned. She had meant it to be the lightest of embraces, but the sensation of that firm, cool mouth on hers made a million minute tendrils of desire rush through every part of her body, weak as she was, and she was drowning in him. He lost the power of coherent thought the moment she initiated contact.

He pulled her closer and took control, that clever mouth moving over hers, his tongue brushing over her lower lip and then pushing forward. Tongue met tongue, teeth nibbled and bit softly, and lips soothed the almost pain away. She sucked his lower lip into her mouth and whimpered at the taste of him. Oh, that taste that she thought she would never experience again. As she bit on his lip, he groaned again and whispered her name into her mouth.

They could not get close enough, hugging each other tighter and tighter, limbs tangling with limbs, until she gave a little cry of pain. The world rushed back and Spike pulled away to look at her in concern. 'God, Buffy, we shouldn't be doing this. You're not strong enough.'

She was breathless and flushed, and it took her a moment to answer.

'There are probably a thousand reasons why we shouldn't be doing this.'

The stricken look in his eyes made her give him a brief but passionate kiss. 'No, I don't mean it like that. Ok, maybe I do. But I just couldn't bear to think that I might die, never having kissed you again.'

This completely unexpected and un-Slayer-like admission made his mouth fall open and his eyes widen, an expression that made Buffy laugh out loud.

'Spike, I'm done playing games. You know, you should have believed me in the Hellmouth.'

'What do you…..' He stopped when he realised what she might be talking about. His eyes got even wider.

'Yes, you know what I'm talking about. You thanked me, but you didn't believe a word of it. Idiot. All this time wasted. Trust William the Bloody to get it all wrong.'

She said it all with a smile that made her words sound almost loving.

She resettled herself so that she was again resting her head on Spike's chest, with his arm around her protectively.

After a while, she spoke softly to him. 'It's you and me. The vampire and the Slayer. Don't expect violins and roses, and some slow-motion romantic reunion. I have no ideas beyond getting well. I have no clue about us or if there can ever be an us. But, for now, you're here and if I had the words to tell you what that means to me, I would. But I don't. I'm a doer, not a talker, as you know. That kiss was me saying all the mushy stuff, get that? Now close those blinds and let's get some sleep. Just promise me you'll be here when I wake up.'

So he did just that, and then came back to the bed. He took his boots off and climbed in beside her, his arms immediately finding their place around her slight body. 'I'll be here, ok. Always.'

When Willow poked her head in a couple of hours later, they were both asleep, curled up together.

* * *

><p>Later, when the medical staff came in to check on Buffy, Spike went to find some blood. He'd been forgetting to eat, and he knew that he needed to be at full strength for whatever lay ahead. When he came back, the look of relief on Buffy's face when she saw him, made him want to sweep her up in his arms and never let her go. He settled for sitting next to the bed and entwining his fingers with hers. She made no effort to pull away. They sat like that for a whole, talking of not very much, enjoying the moment.<p>

Then the door opened and Angel walked in. His eyes flashed when he saw their conjoined hands. Spike expected Buffy to let go, but she just tightened her grip, as much as she could in her weakened state.

'Any news? Any more information to help me leap out of this bed full of Slayer-y vim and vigour?'

Angel decided to ignore the sickening sight of Buffy and Spike holding hands like love-sick teenagers. 'We've got people working on it. But the guy at the library's been found dead and the manuskript is gone. No clues, except one of the other librarians remembered seeing our guy talking to an old lady just before the library closed.'

'Myrsina.' Spike stated it as a fact, rather than a question. 'So now what?'


	12. Chapter 12

****_Disclaimer_******: **Don't own anything.

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><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

A week later, Buffy was no better, and even, perhaps, a little worse, though all of them smothered the thought whenever it came into their minds. The gang had continued to roam the city looking for clues, meeting with whatever supernatural forces they could find to see if anyone knew anything. Giles and Willow had contacted more people around the world than they cared to admit. Myrsina, if that who she was, had vanished into the ether. There had been no more attempts on Buffy's life, but then, what would be the need? The powers of darkness had effectively put a stop to the Slayer's power to hurt them. Buffy had suggested that she be allowed to go home, as the Council would probably not want to keep on paying the exorbitant medical bills. The Council had friends on the Medical Board, so the hospital staff had been told to allow some of the more unorthodox goings on in Buffy's room. She had been put out of the way of the rest of the patients so that no one would be disturbed by anything that went on and the gang were able to come and go as they pleased. However, the hospital was charging a fortune for turning a blind eye.

'And, guys, the docs can't do anything for me. I'm not actually ill. I could just as easily be lying on a sofa at home as being in this bed. I want to go home.'

They all shied away from that idea, because it seemed like they were giving up and admitting failure. And then she suddenly seemed to get worse, to the point where she needed help just to sit up in bed. They were all heartily sick of the sight of that hospital cafeteria. But, without saying anything, none of them wanted to leave Buffy and go back to the apartment. They felt like they were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

So here they were again, drinking bad coffee and talking endlessly about what to do. Dawn was late because she had gone into research mode again. Anything so that she felt she was doing something, not just sitting around waiting for the worst to happen, whatever that might be.

'I've been reading up about Snow White and Sleeping Beauty and stories like that. To see if there are any more clues. There are so many versions of them. And the earliest ones are gross! There's rape, cannibalism, torture, child abuse, all sorts of awful things. Nothing like the stories Mom used to tell me, and nothing like Disney! I even found a modern version where a human man releases a vampire woman from a curse! Don't tell me that's not a bit spooky!'

Giles spoke, rather eagerly for him. 'But did you find anything useful? Were there any aspects they had in common?'

'Not really, some of the older ones were so different. But some of them mentioned that the heroine was awakened not by a kiss from her true love, but by getting rid of whatever poisoned her, like the apple or sometimes it was a candy-type of thing. I think it was called a sweetmeat, which sounds pretty disgusting to me. In Sleeping Beauty kind of stories she sometimes had to have the needle or spindle removed. If you go back further then demons and witches are mentioned even more. I think that's because of Myrsina and the true part of the stories.'

'Well, this is all terribly interesting, but haven't the doctors x-rayed Buffy and found nothing?'

'Yes, but this is something magical! Maybe it wouldn't show up on an x-ray. I mean, vampires can't see themselves in mirrors and you can photograph ghosts, can you?'

Xander tried, and failed, to keep the scepticism out of his voice. 'But, Dawnie, how does this help? If there is some kind of toxic magic thingy in Buffy, what the hell are we supposed to do about it? Tell the doctors to pump her stomach or cut her open and have a good look around?'

'Don't be disgusting, Xander!' Dawn looked at him furiously.

'If there is something, I doubt it can be removed by mortal means. We need magical help,' said Giles.

Willow, who had been listening pensively up until now without saying anything, spoke up. 'I'm going to call the Coven in England, Giles.' And she left the room, taking out her phone as she did so.

* * *

><p>The next day, Willow summoned them again to Buffy's room. Her witch friends had told her about a spell for removing unwanted supernatural elements from a body, but it had not worked. When she had cast the spell, there had been a faint, acid green light that appeared above Buffy's abdomen, but it had faded after a few seconds. Willow was sure that they were on the right track, but were missing something vital. It was there, skulking just out of sight in her mind's eye. The solution was there, but she could not quite catch hold of it.<p>

So there they all were, the seven of them, surrounding Buffy. It was dim in the hospital, with the blinds carefully drawn against the bright sunshine, out of respect for the two vampires in their midst. But they could see that Buffy was not right.

She lay there on the hospital bed, her hand clutching one of Spike's, while the rest of the group stood in a circle around her. She looked pale and exhausted, maybe not the dead white of the mystical coma, but she was still not the glowing, healthy girl that they remembered. She looked like someone recovering from a terrible illness or who had just undergone chemotherapy. She could barely lift her head off the pillow and she looked frail, and that was the last word any of them would normally associate with Buffy. They had talked and talked about every aspect of what had happened but now they were out of ideas.

Spike, whose jaw was clenched so tight that a muscle was twitching on the side of his face, broke the silence. The pain in his voice, held in tightly but impossible to disguise, made the others shift uncomfortably in their places. 'See, Willow, I told you I wasn't **the one**. Why the hell did you think William the Bloody could be the Slayer's "true love"? (the sarcasm when he said those two words was so bitter that Willow instinctively put out her hand towards him), Well, Angel got it right; the whole idea is a joke just like ...'

'Spike', Buffy's disturbingly weak voice cut into his angry rant. 'Spike, who woke me up, you idiot? No one managed it except you. Doesn't that tell you anything?'

'Yeah, well, you're not exactly fighting fit, are you? Couldn't fend off a kitten in your present state, could you? So what does that say about your feelings for me? Maybe there was something there, enough to wake you up but not enough to really rid you of that bloody curse! What kind of half-arsed true love is that? Buffy, you love pretty much everyone else in this room far more than you ever loved me!'

'You got that right, Spike.' This time it was Angel who spoke, Angel who had been remarkably silent since he had realised that Spike was able to accomplish what he had not.

'Spike, Angel! Shut up!' Everyone looked at Willow in surprise. 'You know, I think we have been looking at this all wrong! Oh, Oh, don't speak, I'm having an idea right now.' And she left the circle around Buffy and started pacing around the room, in the small space between the bed and the window.

* * *

><p>Finally, she turned and spoke eagerly, addressing all of them, 'True love! Why do we all think it's only about romantic love? There are lots of kinds of love, aren't there? And in this room, well, if we did some kind of love connection map, it would be like a plate of spaghetti! A huge plate of tangled spaghetti love!' She sounded almost giddy.<p>

'Willow, what are you rambling on about?' Xander asked in a tone comprising equal parts exasperation and concern.

'Don't you see? In this group there's so much love and loyalty and ... Just look at us. The Scoobies together again, and yes, there are seven of us plus Buffy. That's really weird and kinda funny, too. But we are all here for each other, just like we always have been. And the seven of us are here for Buffy, because we all love her in our own way. We would all give our lives for her, and some of us already have.' (Here she looked at Spike and Angel and smiled, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

Willow continued, talking at breakneck speed, not wanting anyone to interrupt her. They were all looking at her, unsure where she was going with this, though Buffy had a wide smile on her face, as if she got it. 'Dawn loves her like a sister, and so do Xander and I, and Giles, you're like a father to her, and Spike and Angel, well, I don't think I need to explain about them. Even Andrew, you've been loyal to her and put your life on the line more than once.'

'Willow, he did try to kill her, or have you forgotten.' This was from Dawn.

Andrew looked hurt. 'Hey, that was a long time ago, and to be accurate, I didn't want to kill her, just defeat her with my evil genius. And I've spent a long time seeking redemption by fighting alongside the Slayer. Maybe I don't want to get all smoochy with her, (a look of distaste flitted across his delicate features), 'but Willow is right. I do ... well, I do love her in a respectful, admiring, platonic kind of way.'

'Exactly. And, to be honest, a few of us in this room have tried to kill her at some time or other. So... my point is that maybe Myrsina was smarter than we thought. You all said the curse was too easy to break. And perhaps romantic love was enough to wake her up, and you, Spike, did that because, in that way, you **are** her true love.'

At this, Buffy squeezed Spike's hand more tightly, and he looked down at her, eyes full of a mixture of scepticism and hope.

Willow continued, her voice bright with her usual inimitable optimism. 'But romance is not enough. Buffy needs all the people who love her to be here for her. And we are, which is a miracle, considering where we have come from and what we have done and how many times we have nearly died. And isn't it amazing that all the people who truly love Buffy are in this room, and that there are seven of us? That wouldn't be true of everyone who might be cursed.'

Dawn suddenly turned from the bed and ran to hug Willow tightly. 'Oh, Willow, why are you always so smart?' Willow went slightly pink.

Buffy spoke from her bed. 'Because her faith in the power of love never wavers.' Willow came back to the circle and looked down at Buffy, who struggled to sit upright. They hugged silently, just for a few seconds.

'Sorry to interrupt the Hallmark moment, but why seven? Isn't that just from the Disney version of Snow White?' Xander looked confused.

Giles, polite as ever but slightly impatient, spoke up next. 'Xander, you have been involved with the supernatural world long enough to know that seven is a very important number, mystically speaking. I think that Willow might be on to something here. So how can this help Buffy?'

Dawn spoke up eagerly, 'Isn't it obvious? We all have to do the ritual, together. Then Buffy will be back to normal. That's what you were thinking, isn't it, Will?'

'Exactly!


	13. Chapter 13

****_Disclaimer_******: **Don't own anything.

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><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

It was late. Willow had collected together more ingredients for the spell and now they were standing around the bed, which had been pushed into the middle of the room. Willow had taught them the few words of the spell. They were all holding hands in a protective circle around Buffy. After Willow had made some complicated movements with the eclectic collection of objects on the bed, she fitted herself into the circle with the others.

And they began chanting the words, over and over.

Nothing happened.

'Ok, plan B. Maybe we all need to be connected to Buffy.

Spike took hold of one of Buffy's hands, Dawn the other, then the others continued the chain until they were all linked.

'I love you, Buffy.' This was Willow.

One by one they all said it. 'I love you, Buffy.' 'I love you, Buffy.' 'I love you, Buffy.' 'I love you, Buffy.' 'I love you, Buffy.' 'I love you, Buffy.'

The Slayer gave them one of her blinding smiles that made each of them remember why they had risked their lives for her on so many occasions and why they always would.

'I love you guys.'

And then they started the chanting, on and on, endlessly repeating the words. Minutes went by and yet no one stopped. Absolutely final, million to one chances always worked out, didn't they? This one had to. And so they continued.

Just when Willow had almost allowed herself to think that she might have to stop them, Dawn shrieked. They could all see it, but they continued saying the ancient words.

This time the vicious green mist that was spiralling out of Buffy did not disappear, but grew stronger and thicker. In the midst of the eerie twister of green light that was spilling out of the Slayer, they could see a red pinpoint of light. Instinctively, they started to chant more loudly.

Buffy started moaning and then writhing in pain. Willow shouted, 'Don't let go, no matter what!'

Tears were streaming down Dawn's face as she gripped her sister's hand, refusing to let Buffy go, even though the Slayer was trying to pull her hands out of their grasp, as her body twisted in agony.

The sense of evil in the room was palpable, especially to those with supernatural abilities. Angel's jaw was clenched tight, Spike's cheekbones seemed more prominent than ever as the muscles in his face were set rock hard, and Willow was whiter than a sheet as she tried to fight the weakness she felt creeping over her.

The dot of light in the centre of the mist began growing larger and spinning. It was transparent but, as it got bigger, it became more opaque. It had seemed a formless blob but now it was taking on a shape.

The chanting faltered a little when they saw what it was. Something so incongruous, so ordinary, and yet so wrong.

A piece of apple, white inside with a scarlet skin and tooth marks where someone had bitten into the fruit.

It continued to become more solid and to revolve in the green light. They started chanting more quickly. Buffy was almost screaming now as the paroxysms of pain lifted her body off the bed. But no one lost their grip, no one wavered.

Their incantation, the swirling mist, the spinning apple all grew stronger. It was reaching a crescendo and all of them felt an intense, agonising pressure inside their heads, as if something were crushing their skulls in its vice-like hands.

Then everyone felt a blinding flash of pain that made all of them clutch each other's hands to stop from falling over. But no one lost their grip. There was a loud bang and the mist seemed to explode outwards. The seven of them fell to their knees with heads bent but they did not break the circle.

* * *

><p>After an endless moment, Willow was the first to speak. 'Guys, guys, get up!'<p>

Finally letting go, the Scoobies stood up, their eyes turning to Buffy. She lay there, seemingly lifeless , all colour drained from her face.

'Willow! Is she, is she…?' Dawn spoke in a high pitched, terrified squeal, unable to finish her sentence.

Willow and Spike bent over Buffy, feeling for her pulse, putting an ear to her mouth.

'She's still breathing.' Willow tried to sound reassuring but there was a tiny element of doubt in her voice that made everyone's feel a tightness in their chest.

'What's that?' Andrew put out a tentative finger towards something lying on the counterpane.

'Don't touch it!' Giles and Willow spoke in unison.

Everyone's eyes swivelled in the direction of Andrew's pointing finger.

On the bed lay a small, shrivelled, blackened object. It was impossible to tell what it had been but a dreadful smell was coming from it, and the material on which it was sitting looked like it was stained a rusty brown colour.

Giles picked up two magazines and managed to manoeuvre the object onto one of them. Willow had a plastic bag that had contained some herbs for the spell and they put the nasty thing inside it and then inside a brown paper bag. They then took the cover off the bed, rolled it into a ball and put it in corner of the room. No one spoke a word as they did this. Everyone stood frozen, a tableau of uncertainty.

Angel came closer to Buffy and stood on the opposite side to Spike, looking down at the unconscious figure of the Slayer.

'So, did it work?' He spoke in a carefully neutral voice and did not look at the other vampire.

'I….. I'm not sure,' Willow said reluctantly.

* * *

><p>'I think she must just be exhausted from the ordeal. She's still breathing. We need to give her some time to recover.' Giles sounded like he was convincing himself as much as the others. 'Let's give her some space.'<p>

He moved away from the bed towards the window. The others followed him; except Spike, who had said nothing, but who had taken hold of Buffy's hand again and was staring down at her, his eyes blazing with such intensity, such love, that it seemed indecent to intrude on such a moment.

'What was that disgusting thing you just bagged? Was it really a piece of apple or am I going crazy?' This from Xander.

'Well, it certainly looked like it. And it would explain the fruit Dawn found in the flat when this all started.'

'This is nuts! How can fairy stories be so real? I mean, a poisoned APPLE?'

'Xander, surely you have been involved in the world of the supernatural long enough to know that the influence of the forces of evil has touched every aspect of human society over millennia and nothing is impossible? I…..' Giles stopped. This was hardly the time or place for a historical or sociocultural lecture.

'I think we should leave and let Willow and Spike stay with Buffy.'

Angel opened his mouth to protest, but then thought better of it. He knew that he was no longer the one she needed. He walked over to the bed, and kissed Buffy on the forehead. 'Wake up, Buffy, we need you.'

One by one, they all followed her lead, and walked over to kiss Buffy and whisper something to her, something that did not feel like a goodbye.

Once they had all gone, the witch and the vampire sat back down next to the Slayer.

Eventually, Willow broke the silence. 'Spike, do you…'

He finally tore his gaze away from Buffy's face and looked at Willow. The agony in his eyes made Willow flinch.

He spat out the words, each one rising in volume so that he was almost shouting. 'I don't know! Don't ask me anything! We got the damn thing out and still she's not right! What else can we do? This Myrsina bitch has played us all for fools! All this talk of true love is just complete crap! Well, I don't know about you, but I am done hanging round here. I'm going to go and find that evil bitch and torture her until she tells us how to fix this! Touchy-feely never works, Will, you should know that by now!'

* * *

><p>'Spike, my head hurts. Do you have to shout?' This was said in the merest whisper, but at the sound of that tiny, pleading voice, Willow and Spike jumped and their heads swivelled back to look down at the bed.<p>

Buffy was looking up at them, pale as ever, black circles under her eyes, smiling faintly.

'Buffy!' Spike and Willow bumped heads as they bent down to hug her. 'Oh, Buffy, you're alive!'

'Well, this is me, Will. Death doesn't stand a chance, you know that. Help me up.'

They helped her to sit up and Willow gave her some water. The two of them could not take their eyes off her.

'How do you feel?'

'Like my bones are made of limp spaghetti and as if I haven't slept for days.'

'Then it didn't work.' The bitterness in Spike's voice made Buffy reach for his hand.

'Actually, I feel like crap, but something is different. You know when you get something stuck in your teeth and it drives you crazy until you can get rid of it? Well, I kind of feel like that, except it's a whole body thing, not just a tooth thing. Does that make any sense?'

'That absolutely makes sense!' Willow's mega-watt smile lit up the room as she started to explain to Buffy what had just happened. As she was talking, Spike stood up, kissed Buffy on the head and stalked from the room, without another word.

Buffy called out weakly after him. 'Spike..'

'It's ok, Buffy. He's probably gone to tell the others and then he might need a bit of time to himself. He's been through a lot.'

'I do love him, you know.'

If Willow was surprised by the Slayer actually saying this out loud, she did not show it. 'I know you do. You always have.'

And, without pausing to let Buffy reply to that, she resumed her story. Just when she had got to the part where they were bagging the apple, the door burst open and the others rushed in, Dawn at the front. They were all talking at once. Buffy smiled as they all pushed each other in their haste to hug or kiss her. She did not fail to notice that Spike was not with them. The smile faltered a little but she turned her attention back to her family.


	14. Chapter 14

****_Disclaimer_****: Don't own anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

It was a few days later. Buffy had been pronounced fit and well enough to go home. The doctors had been as baffled by her rapid recovery as they had by her mysterious illness. The Council paid another large sum of money to make sure her medical records disappeared. Buffy and Dawn were packing up her things.

Everyone was still in Italy, but that state of affairs could not last much longer. They all had lives to go back to. Tonight the Scoobies would be together one last night and they would have a party to celebrate Buffy's recovery. Then the gang would have to part, once again.

Myrsina was still nowhere to be found, but they had not given up on dealing with her. Each had offered to keep searching in their own way for information about her whereabouts. They had agreed that they would meet up again if possible when they had something definite to go on. Buffy and Giles had had several long talks and she had decided to go back with him to England to be more involved in training potential slayers. Giles had also said that it was time for Dawn to begin her education to become a fully-fledged Watcher. Enough of living this easy life in Italy. Buffy could not avoid her destiny and she knew it.

And what about Spike? He had been around since the spell but he had said little and revealed less about what he was thinking. He had made sure he was not left alone with Buffy in the daytime. For the last three nights, since the ritual, he had turned up very late, and, without a word, he had climbed onto the bed beside her, and held her until the morning, leaving before she woke up. Nothing would be said, as if by some unspoken agreement, but she wondered how she would ever get a good night's sleep again, if he were not there beside her.

As they finished packing the case, Spike walked into the room. Dawn could feel the immediate tautness in the air, as if someone was drawing a bow, ready to shoot an arrow. She lifted up the bag and said, 'I'll take this to Giles. He's just finishing off the paperwork for your release. We'll wait for you in the cafeteria.' And, with a glance at Spike's white, set face, she left the room.

'You must be getting to know the sewers here really well to come here at midday!' She spoke with false brightness as she fiddled around, pretending to check to see she had left nothing behind, never looking at him.

'Buffy…'

'William.'

He closed his eyes for a second. No one else ever called him that and he was never sure what she was thinking when she said it. But it always meant something, good or bad.

'I think we need to talk.'

'Wow. I never thought you'd be such a cliché. Will it be the old 'It's not you, it's me' speech next?' She spoke in a falsely humorous tone.

'What are you talking about?' He sounded genuinely surprised and that made her finally look at him. He was standing at the end of the bed, a frown of confusion on his face.

'Well, aren't we about to have the break up scene, before you go trotting off back to L.A.?'

With that lightning speed that sometimes forgot he possessed, he was suddenly standing in front of her, his hands gripping her by the upper arms.

'At the risk of sounding repetitive, can I ask what the HELL are you talking about? How can we break up? We're not exactly a couple. This isn't an episode of some soap opera!'

He seemed furious and she was tempted to start shouting back, but she was tired of that dance they always did. She took a deep breath, took his hands off her arms and pulled him towards the sofa in the corner.

* * *

><p>'Sit down, Spike. Sit! We have had enough misunderstandings and miscommunication to last even your lifetime. So can we just talk calmly?'<p>

'Fine. If you remember, I started by saying that we needed to talk, before you started saying nonsense.' He knew he was sounding petty but he couldn't help it. He felt like he was standing at the edge of the Hellmouth again, about to lose Buffy all over again. He was not sure he could through that again. He took his usual refuge in sarcasm.

'It's not nonsense! You were the one spouting the clichés!' She paused and resumed in a calmer tone. 'Let me save you the trouble of giving me your speech. You were going to tell me that you're happy I'm better and that you could help me. You're sure I believe that this whole true love thing is ludicrous and that we know we have no future together. So let's just part friends and you'll always be there for me in my time of need. Et cetera, et cetera. Does that about cover it?'

She was very proud of herself for being able to say all this in a light tone of voice, leaning back casually onto the sofa cushions, rather than flinging herself dramatically onto his chest and weeping uncontrollably, which is what she felt more inclined to do.

His mouth gaped open and he could not speak for a few moments.

'Er…..ah…. Ok, I'm a little confused. Is that what you believe or what you think I believe?'

'Well, is it what you believe?'

'Which part?'

'Any of it! All of it! I don't know! This is a ridiculous conversation!'

She stood up in frustration, but Spike grabbed her hand and pulled her back down onto the seat, close enough so their legs were touching.

A thousand thoughts were racing through his mind as he went over the last few minutes of conversation and tried to work out what was going on.

'It seems like you are annoyed at me about something? Is it that old favourite, the 'Spike never told me he was back' issue? Or have I done something else wrong?'

'Well, how about, you wake me up from a deadly magical coma and then help everyone make me better. Then you hardly talk to me for days, but you come and cuddle me at night, acting like the perfect gentleman, but never saying a word. And, while we're all talking about our plans for the future, you never say a word about what you're going to do, or if your plans involve me at all. Is that enough to be going on with, you thoughtless son of a bitch?' She pulled her hand out of his grasp and sat as far away from him as she could.

He blinked at her for a moment and then that familiar, his well-shaped mouth twisted into that familiar Spike smirk. A spark of happiness, tinged with a little uncertainty, lit up his eyes.

'Do you want my plans to include you?'

She had been looking furiously down at her jeans, as she manically plucked at a loose thread, but, at this, her gaze snapped back up to his face.

'Why would you think that, you arrogant, selfish, idiotic…' She could not finish as she suddenly found herself grabbed and pulled against his lean, strong body and then his mouth was on hers, stopping her words.

* * *

><p>She resisted for the merest second, and then, with a little moan, she fisted her hands into his hair and dragged his head even closer. They kissed, bruising lips with the intensity of the embrace. It was not tender, or loving. It was needy, desperate, like someone who was drowning clawing to reach the surface, dying for air.<p>

They kissed until Buffy had to pull away, to fill her lungs. Gasping, she said, 'Mortal here. Need to breathe.'

He laughed and then pulled her into his lap, his arms wound tightly round her as she sucked in oxygen. When her heart rate had returned to normal, he used a finger to tilt her head up, as it lay on his chest. This time, the kiss was soft, full of love and sweetness, and promises. She sighed into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck. Then she rested her head in the crook of his neck.

She spoke into his t-shirt, so quietly that he had to strain to hear her. 'Why have you been avoiding me?'

He rested his chin on her head and spoke in the same soft tone. 'I… I don't know. I just couldn't bear to think that we would soon be apart again. Every time I saw you, I kept thinking that in a few days there'll be thousands of miles between us.'

'But you came here every night.'

'We haven't caught that demon. I couldn't stay away, knowing there are forces out there trying to kill you.'

'Same old, same old. There are ALWAYS forces out there trying to kill me.'

He chuckled, but held her even more closely, kissing the top of her head. 'I know, and that's torture to me.'

'So, if you want to protect me, why are you going to leave me?'

He gave a gasp, something that had always fascinated her, since he technically did not breathe.

'But… I mean…..Isn't it more that you're going to leave me? Aren't you going to England with Watcher-boy?'

'Yes, but what about you? Do you have to go back to L.A. with Angel?'

This time he used his hand to lift her head up so that they were looking into each other's eyes.

'What are you saying?'

Buffy leaned forward and kissed him firmly on the mouth. 'You're such an idiot. Do you want an engraved invitation?'

* * *

><p>A few minutes passed as he showed her just how this made him feel. There was silence in the room apart from a few sighs or moans as he kissed her so thoroughly that she felt the weakness return to her body.<p>

Eventually, he lifted his talented mouth from hers and growled, his voice thick with emotion, 'Don't say it if you don't mean it. I couldn't bear it.'

Her eyes were glazed and her mouth was pink and swollen after the assault on it. She laid her forehead on his and said the words very clearly. 'Please come with me to England, Spike.'

'Why?'

She sat up at that. 'What do you mean, why?'

'Why do you want me to come?'

'You know why.'

'No, I don't. And in the spirit of this new era of open and transparent communication between us, you need to say it.' He was grinning now, enjoying her discomfort.

'You're the one who said the lovey-dovey, touchy-feely stuff never works.' She tried to get off his lap but he held her tightly. She probably could have got away, if she'd really wanted to.

'Buffy! Please. Why do you want me to come to England?'

She gave in. After all, he'd waited long enough to hear it, and she'd thought that she'd never get the chance to say it. The universe had given her another chance and who was she to ignore the universe?

'William Pratt, Spike, whatever you want to be called, I, Buffy Anne Summers, the Vampire Slayer, love you with all my heart and soul, and I don't ever want us to be apart again. Is that clear enough for you?'

He looked at her in shock. He knew he must be back in that fantasy world.

She could not help laughing at his deer-caught-in-the-headlights look as he gazed at her dumbstruck.

'Can't handle the truth, vampire?'

Spike shook himself, like a dog who'd been caught in the rain. 'Sorry, Buffy, I think there's something wrong with my ears. I thought you just said….'

She slapped him lightly on the cheek. 'You heard me.'

Then she kissed him, pouring everything said and unsaid, every emotion in her heart, everything she felt, into that one embrace, so that he would finally understand.

* * *

><p>Eventually, Buffy pulled away, hard as that was, because she thought that she would never get enough of that cool, mobile, clever mouth.<p>

When they were calm again, he cupped her face in his hands and looked deep into her eyes. 'I love you.'

'I know.'

'But where does this leave us? I mean, there's still the; I'm immortal, you're not' problem, not to mention…'

She stopped him by putting a finger on his lips. 'Spike, there're so many reasons why we can't, shouldn't, won't work. We could spend all day listing them. I've got no clue about what's going to happen in the future. But I know one thing. I can't just lose you again. I can't live like that anymore. I…. I'm not ready for you not to be here, or somewhere, with me.'

He hugged so tightly that, super strength or not, she thought her ribs might crack.

'Buffy, Buffy….'

More time passed as they held each other; they kissed, whispered unintelligible words of love, and kissed some more.

Buffy pushed him away a little and asked, slightly nervously, 'So, what's your answer? Are you coming with me?'

'Buffy, love, I can't. Not yet.'

She narrowed her eyes at him. 'Why not? Don't start all this insecure crap now! God, if you still don't believe me when I say I love you, I don't know what else I can do!'

He caressed her cheek and said soothingly, 'No, no, it's not that. But there's something big coming in LA and I can't just abandon Angel and the others to go off with you. I can't.'

'Since when we you and Angel such buddies? And what's so important in L.A.?'

He could not help feel a little triumphant at the note of jealousy in her voice.

'Sweetheart, Buffy. The end of the world's coming and I have to take my stand with them. It's…. It's what I have to do.'

'Oh, end of the world. That's so old hat. And you already did that once. Trying to go for the double is a little arrogant, don't you think?'

She tried to speak lightly, but her eyes betrayed her, being over-bright and suspiciously shiny.

'I have to do it.'

'You know, I'm not so sure this having a soul thing was such a good idea. The old Spike would have run off to London with me without a backwards glance, especially if I told him he was guaranteed to get lucky!'

He smiled at her, and said, 'Can I have a second to rethink my answer, now I have this new information?'

She smiled back, though it was not very convincing. 'Ok, go off and be a big, damn hero. But remember one thing.'

'What's that, pet?'

'If you get yourself sent back to some hell dimension, I'll move heaven and earth to follow you there, and then you'll get the biggest ass-kicking of your long and sorry life!' She belied these tough words with gentle kisses to his neck, where it joined his shoulder.

He chuckled into her hair. 'Right, I'll do my best not to be dusted. Don't want some maddened Slayer after my tail. And when it's all over, I'll come to England and we'll see… well, we'll see what we can work out.'

'Sounds like a plan.'

Then they had had enough of talking. They were locked in another passionate embrace, when Dawn came rushing into the room.

* * *

><p>'Buffy! What's taking you so ….'<p>

She stopped dead when she saw the two of them entwined on the sofa. 'Oops. Sorry. But Giles is getting very impatient.' She could not help grinning at the sight of her two favourite people, who were, not to mince words, making out.

Buffy thought about moving off Spike's lap but then shrugged. 'Dawn, we need a minute here.'

'I can see that!'

'Dawn! Tell Giles I'll be right there.'

'Ok, ok!' Dawn went off muttering to herself, 'Get a room, why don't you? Oh, yeah, you're in a room!' She could be heard laughing at her own wit as she walked down the corridor.

* * *

><p>The vampire and the Slayer looked at each other for a long moment.<p>

'I'd better go. You know what Giles is like about punctuality. And you'll have to go through the sewers. We'll meet you back at the apartment.'

'See you there, then.'

'See you there.'

But neither made a move to separate. They did not want to let go, not yet.

A few more minutes passed. 'We need to go.' 'I know.' They laughed at the absurdity of it all.

Buffy stood up and pulled Spike after her. They kissed one more time. A long, slow, tender declaration of love.

He rested his forehead on hers. 'I love you.' 'You said.' He grinned at her answer, flicked her nose with his finger and finally let her go.

'There'd better be alcohol at this party. And dancing. Slow dancing. Lots of alcohol and sexy dancing where I get to grab your arse. Otherwise I'm not coming.'

'There will be, I promise.'

'That's ok then. Ta ta, Slayer.'

'Bye, William.'

And with that, he kissed her hard on the mouth and then sauntered out, the old swaggering Spike.

After he had gone, Buffy whispered, 'I love you, Spike', and smiled to herself. Then she picked up her purse and left the room, without a backward glance.

She needed to get home, have a shower and get ready. She had to find something killer to wear, because she had a date for the party. A really hot date.

* * *

><p><em>Well, it took me a few months, but it's done! I know, it's cheesy , but if you saw how many rewrites I did, you would take pity on me. Not sure why this was so hard to finish. Buffy and Spike are my absolute favourite fictional couple ever and very dear to me, so I am too close. Also, there is a strong feeling of wish fulfilment about this, as it never happened in canon and I did not like how S7 ended. I hear there is Spuffy progress in the books, so maybe I need to check those out!<em>

_If you are reading this, then thanks for sticking with it. I have no high expectations of getting reviews, because my stories don't seem to attract them! But I needed to complete it and people were lovely enough to put it on alert and their favourites list. I never want to be a person who starts something they don't finish! _

_I did plan to include the next part of the story where they look for the demon, but I think this is long enough. However, I may write a sequel if inspiration strikes, though this time I would write it all first, before posting it! _

_Thank you for spending time with my story. It means a lot. Spuffy forever! _


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